


Searching for Solas

by elvhenphoenix



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, I really want to get this story written, Love, Mystery, Past Lavellan/Solas, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Quests, Rewrite, Romance, Skye Lavellan, it's been in my head for months now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvhenphoenix/pseuds/elvhenphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been six months since Skye Lavellan saved the world and defeated Corypheus. Though nobles and politicians are still clamouring for her attention, she is more concerned with finding Solas and finally getting the answers she deserves. When disaster strikes at the heart of Skyhold, it sets off a chain of events that Skye could never have believed would happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sorrow

Skye slammed her first down onto the War Table, her face shaped into a silent snarl at the advisors, before she span on her heels and stormed out. The door swung shut with a bang behind her, leaving Leliana, Josephine and Cullen standing in stunned silence. The Commander was the first to break it.

'Well,' he sighed, wiping his brow, 'That went well.' The two women looked at him incredulously.

'Seriously?' Leliana raised an eyebrow. 'You think she was happy with our work? Solas has been gone for six months now, and we are so busy negotiating the new terms of the College of Enchanters with Ferelden-'

'And meeting with the Empress of Orlais to work out the new arrangements of her alliance with Briala,' Josephine chipped in.

'That too, yes,' Leliana amended. 'We are no closer to finding him that we were after defeating Corypheus, Cullen. Skye is in shambles, and probably close to jumping off her balcony. That simply oozes superb, wouldn't you agree?' Despite the somber atmosphere, Josephine hid a small smile behind her hair, grateful that, for once, she wasn't on the receiving end of the spymaster's sharp tongue.

Cullen shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. 'Just trying to lighten the mood.' He frowned, leaning forward to study the War Map. 'No word or sign of Morrigan, either?' Leliana shook her head. He sighed. 'She's easily one of the most powerful mages in Thedas - if we could find her, perhaps she could track him?' Cullen traced the outline of the Arbor Wilds on the map. He shook his head. 'If Solas had been a member of the Circle, you know, this would all be so much easier.'

It was Josephine's turn to scowl. 'Be that as it may, Commander, he is not. And we are rapidly running out of options.' She turned to Leliana. 'Leliana, you must have an idea of where she might be. You alone know her better than either of us. I will send word to Celene, and inquire the whereabouts of her arcane advisor.'

Cullen stood straight. 'If you have everything under control here, then, I'll go and check on Skye.' He bowed briefly to the women, before leaving through the great door. The Orlesian and the Antivan perused the War Table together, and Leliana smiled as a new idea took root.

'Alistair would not so easily give up the whereabouts of his son, you know.'

Josephine smiled. 'What are you thinking, Leliana?'

She smirked. 'Alistair would protect Morrigan and Kieran, but I'm not sure the Hero of Ferelden would, if it bothered her enough - no doubt she finds Kieran's existence difficult.' She looked at Josephine. 'Continue with the negotiations. I'm going to send a raven to Aurelie.'

Having been waylaid with various reports on his way, it took some time before Cullen was able to make his way to the Inquisitor's quarters. Reaching the door, he stopped before it, raising a hand in hesitation. He could hear commotion coming from inside; the sounds of magic, accompanied by intermittent swearing and…was that laughter? He knocked twice, cautiously, and the noise inside immediately ceased. The door opened a crack, revealing Sera in what Cullen could only describe as the most disgusting, worn out pyjamas he had ever seen.

'Who is it?' Sera called in a sing-song voice, then stopped abruptly as she recognised the Commander.'Ew! No boys allowed!' she said in disgust, then stopped as a gentler voice came from within.

'Who is it, Sera?' Cullen motioned to enter, and Sera grudgingly stepped back to allow him up the stone stairs. What he saw made his Templar mind twitch with nerves. The walls and ceilings were covered in a fine sheen of magical frost, and bolts of electrical energy swirled around the ceiling. Remnants of green fog hung about like clouds and on the floor, a discarded staff lay on the floor, tiny bolts of lightning still crackling up and down the snarled wood. Squinting into the relative darkness, Cullen could just about make out a huddled figure leaning against the door to the balcony, shadowed except for the moonlight catching on her dark hair.

Cullen turned back to Sera, shocked, and the elf quickly motioned him back outside. 'What on earth happened in there?' he asked quietly, and Sera scowled.

'You try dealing with a mage who's close to topping herself! I figured better her room takes the beating instead of her own body.' She sighed. 'Still don't understand what she saw in Baldy, y'know, but whatever happened, she's still not over it. It's getting worse.' Cullen nodded.

'She's lucky to have you as a friend, I think.' Sera looked smug.

'Even if she's elfy, she's still alright. And, y'know, laughing is good medicine, yeah?' Cullen nodded, then both elf and human looked back up the stairs as they heard a quickly muffled sob. The elf sighed. 'I know you guys are friends, or were, or whatever, so maybe she'll talk to you. Just be nice, yeah? Otherwise you'll wake up with arrows up your arse.' Cullen nodded, a little startled at the ferocity in Sera's eyes. He laid his hand over his heart.

'I swear I will be as nice as I can be.' Satisfied, Sera headed out, no doubt to lie in wait with her bow and quiver in case he failed to keep his promise. Cullen made his way back up the steps and into the Inquisitor's chambers, and Skye tensed as he walked across the room. She relaxed as she saw who it was, and only as she turned her head did Cullen realise her face was shining with tears, the remnants of which, unchecked, were dripping onto the stone flagons.

He settled himself on the ground next to her, wondering what to say. 'Skye,' he began gently, and she shook her head. He was silent immediately, and Skye leant into his shoulder. He heard her sniffle and Cullen put his arms around her, cradling her whilst she cried.

'We're never going to find him,' she said in a muffled voice, choked with unspent sobs. Cullen said nothing, did nothing, except hold her. She wasn't looking for a conversation, he knew that instinctively, and nor did she really want to be comforted by him, but Cullen knew from experience the need for someone else to be strong once in a while, and whilst Sera was great at distractions, Skye didn't want to be distracted. She needed to let herself feel the grief, to let it wash over, and Cullen could only hope she was strong enough to come out the other side intact.

He had no idea how long the two of them sat like that, the Templar holding the collapsed mage in his arms. Eventually, however, she let out a deep sigh, and Cullen turned his head slightly to see her eyes were closed, the remnants of her tears still clinging to her skin. Gently, carefully, he gathered her in his arms, slowly getting to his feet as he carried her to her bed. Her elfin form was light as a feather, and Cullen could tell she had lost weight since Solas had first disappeared. She looked like a shadow of her former self. Gently, he deposited her onto the bed, and Sera came back up the stairs. Clearly, she had been waiting in the shadows.

'I've been trying to get her to go to sleep for almost an hour. Her plus that staff - it equals bad stuff, y'know?' Sera said to him quietly. Skye shifted in her sleep, and even in her dreams her mouth was curved, a tiny furrow appearing between her eyebrows. Then she shifted again, and the curve disappeared, replaced with a relaxing of her body.

'Solas,' she whispered, and was still. Cullen turned to Sera, surprised. Sera merely shrugged.

'She's done it a couple of times now, and she always wakes up sadder than before. Dorian said that mages visit the Fade in their dreams easier than most. Maybe she's trying to find him.'

Reaching for the bedspread, curled into a ball at the end of the bed, Cullen draped it slowly over the sleeping elf. He turned to Sera. 'Stay with her tonight,' he ordered quietly. 'Let me know how she is in the morning.'


	2. Fadewalker

They had left the Chantry, and even now they looked to the searing green light, scarring the sky.

'You change everything,' he murmured, and she blushed.

'Sweet talker,' she answered shyly. He looked away, perhaps in confusion at her words, and Skye could see his guard begin to rise once more. She couldn’t waste her opportunity, not like this. She stepped forward, and with a boldness she did not know she possessed, cupped his face in her hands.

She kissed him without warning, the tiny flakes of snow settling over her face no longer any more than a brief distraction. Abruptly, she drew back, ending the kiss, the awareness of what she had just done searing through down to her bones. Solas was staring at her in shock, although his lips still curved with a trace of amusement. She watched him for a moment, then turned back to the sky, intent on watching the Breach, a scarlet flush creeping up her neck as she realised the enormity of her actions, the vulnerability it revealed in her. But Solas caught her then, his hands resting on her hip and back, and he pulled her close, and then he was kissing her. Creators, was he kissing her. He was like a drowning man gasping for air, stealing kisses from her lips that she had no idea were waiting there for him to steal, drawing the breath from her lungs, pulling her close. Skye could not help but notice the way he pulled her tight against his own body, so tight she could feel his heartbeat resonating against her breastbone, so tight that she could feel the heaving of his chest as he clung to her. Solas drew back, abruptly, and Skye opened her eyes to see his own were full of wonder and confusion, staring at her, a slight shake of his head as if to dislodge unwanted thoughts. She shook her own, closing her eyes again as she curled a hand around the nape of his neck, pulling him back towards her. She wished nothing more than to feel again the electrifying feeling of his lips upon hers.

If only it was real again. Skye watched the memory with saddened eyes, her first kiss ending as Solas suddenly broke apart from her. It was a literal breaking; her memory curled and smoked like a burning painting, turning into ashes that dissipated into the Fade. As it faded, Skye could make out a faint silhouette of light, just beyond the memory. It seemed to be watching her, and Skye could sense the sorrow radiating from it. In a moment of pain, she drew up the memory again. She watched it, over and over, the warmth of the memory slowly tainted by her pain. Somehow, she slipped into the memory itself, and found herself reliving the kiss. Both unwillingly and willingly, she played the part, and her heart ached as the memory-Solas stared at her with wonder. She found a perverse comfort in the sensation. This Solas, at least, would never leave her; this Solas wanted nothing more than to kiss his love in the middle of the snow. The spirit was still watching, she could sense, and the idea that she was being watched, even by a spirit, was unnerving. Skye dissolved the memory abruptly, and Solas dissolved once more. And yet, he didn't. He was still there, even as Haven smoked and dissolved around them, and in the midst of her confusion, he cupped her face, bringing her gently to meet his mouth. She could still sense the spirit, and it wasn't until Sorrow whispered to her that the realisation slammed into her. She pulled away suddenly, frightened, confused, staring wide-eyed at the spirit that had taken Solas's form. There was only one way it would knowingly assume his form.

Skye slumped to her knees, her shoulders beginning to shake.

'He's dead,' she whispered, brokenly. 'That's why you wear his face. Solas…' She closed her eyes, pressing her hands to her mouth. No. It couldn't be. 'Emma lath,' she whispered, and she wept as the spirit who wore her lover's face knelt before her. He took her hands, prising them gently from her face, and held them. The spirit whispered to her, and she didn't understand at first.

'Vhenan,' the spirit said softly, 'Ir abelas.' Hesitantly, he reached with a hand to wipe away Skye's tears, and she watched him in shock as he did so.

'Solas?' she asked in a tiny voice, and his eyes lit up as he saw her recognition.

'I am so sorry, ma vhenan,' Solas said softly, and as he bent his head to kiss her, the realisation took hold. Solas wasn't dead, he was here, Solas was alive and he loved her and then he kissed her. The kiss was gentle and hesitant, so different to the memory she had been reliving moments before, but the sensation still took her breath away, and Skye's heart felt like it would burst. She grew unaware of the Fade, of time; all Skye knew was that Solas was here, and that he loved her.

For now, that knowledge was all she wanted.


	3. Return

There was a sound, a soft knock on the wooden bedpost of the Inquisitor's bed, and Sera, who had been sleeping on the sofa, snorted as she awoke.

'Wassat?' she said groggily, and as she opened her eyes fully there seemed to be someone, a shadow, at the end of the bed. She let out a hiss, and leapt up, catlike, her dagger appearing in her hand. 'Skye,' she hissed warningly, and the figure turned, his pale blue eyes fixating upon Sera. Cole smiled, and Sera let out a noise of disgust. 'You?!' she whispered, and Cole nodded, before turning back to watch Skye.

'She found him,' he murmured. Sera lowered her dagger.

'She found…who? Solas?' Cole nodded.

'They're dreaming,' he whispered, and vanished again from sight. As Sera stood, Skye stirred, and slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

'Sera? What…what's going on?' Sera shrugged.

'You tell me. The creepy thing was here again,' she answered, stowing her dagger back in its sheath. 'Said you found Solas.' The name sent Skye into stillness. Then, with a wave of her hands, tiny golden flames sprung into life, resting on the candle by her bedside and the candles on the gently swinging chandelier. The light lent her face a softness Skye had begun to lose, and Sera realised that she was smiling.

She began to smile back, and clambered on the bed to sit next to her. 'Good dream, yeah?' she giggled with glee, drawing her knees up to her chest. 'I want all the details!' Skye shook her head, but her smile was wide, and she couldn't seem to sit still.

'It was a memory,' she eventually confessed. 'I was…living it. And he appeared - drawn to the dream, I think.' She hugged her knees as she relived the moments of their final kiss. 'He's still alive, Sera,' she whispered. 'He's still alive and he still loves me.' For a moment, Sera was caught up in Skye's joy, as the elf beamed at her. It was the happiest she had been in months. But then, like always, reality settled like a cloud.

'But he's still not actually here,' Sera said as gently as she could. Skye's mood deflated somewhat. 'I mean…what I'm trying to…ah, piss.' She stood. 'I'm no good at stuff like this,' Sera proclaimed. Cole appeared at her side, unseen, and Skye turned wide eyes to him.

'I can help,' he offered peaceably, and Sera leapt about a foot into the air. A gargled gasp of shock erupting from her throat, she drew her dagger.

'Tell it to stop creeping up on me!' she shouted at Skye, who was trying to hide a smile. 'Ah, this is shite. I'm going to find some breakfast.' She gathered herself and strode down the steps to the door, letting it bang behind her on the way out.

Cole watched her go, and turned back to Skye, who was trying to hide a smile. 'She's still scared of me,' he said plaintively, and Skye sighed.

'Don't worry about her, Cole. She'll get used to you one day, I promise.' He nodded in recognition. Then he focused his attention on her.

'I still can't read you,' he murmured. 'The Anchor burns too bright. It burns the rest of you out. It's been scaring me.' Skye leant forward, and took his hand in hers. 'I'm sorry, Cole,' she said earnestly.

'But I promise, I'm much happier now. I found Solas last night.' He nodded. 'In the dreams. But only in the dreams.' Skye raised an eyebrow.

'Not you, too.'

He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, I am! But he was hiding so much from you, and I wasn't allowed to tell. He isn't going to come back.' His eyes unfocused. 'They're people too, if you are, but the wolf is frightened and doesn't want to listen to the voices and the souls.' She shook her head.

'He's alive and he loves me,' she insisted fiercely. 'Can I not at least hope?' 

'I'm sorry,' he answered her in a whisper. 'But he won't come back.' There was a pause, and Cole could sense her temper rising. The magic in the air flickered as she reached for it - no mark from the Fade would muddle that unmistakeable sign of anger.

'Then,' she said, in a clipped tone, 'We will go and find him. Make him understand.' She released the magic with an exhale of breath, and Cole relaxed.

'What will we do?' he asked her. Skye thought for a moment.

'Morrigan. She's one of the most powerful mages that we know of, and she's got experience in both hiding and running. She might know what he might plan.'

Cole nodded. 'What about here?' She paused, tilting her head slightly as she considered him. 'What do you mean?' He sat next to her on the bed. 'People were scared for you. They were worried that you wanted to leave them forever.'

Skye's lips parted in surprise. 'Cole…' she began softly. He shook his head.

'Leliana keeps someone to watch you constantly. Josephine has started writing letters for you, and to your Clan, just in case. Cullen sits in his office or trains his men. He's scared most of all.' He took a breath, and the want, the need, to tell her how everyone felt was overwhelming. But he saw her face, so open in her fear and worry, that Cole swallowed his words, perhaps for the first time in his life. 'You need to show them that you're brave again,' he told her gently, instead. 'Tell them you have a plan.' Skye nodded. He stood, prepared to vanish. Skye leant forward and clasped his hand.

'Thank you,' she said, and Cole could see her eyes beginning to shine again. He shook his head.

'I want to help. No more tears.' Then he was gone.

Skye dressed quickly, her heart beginning to beat faster in anticipation. She would find Morrigan, and with her help find Solas, and nothing would get in her way. The Anchor pulsed once on her hand, startling her somewhat. She paused in her ministrations, examining it carefully, but it seemed content for now, and although it still shone a gentle green light, the Anchor served as nothing more than a reminder of her Fade-walking last night. Skye smiled, remembering the feeling of Solas's arms around her as she awoke into the real world. Cole's warnings seemed trivial in comparison to the excitement she felt at the prospect of bringing Solas home. Rifling through her wardrobe, Skye chose her Inquisition outfit, the tan breeches underneath a belted dark green tunic, a leather waistcoat completing the ensemble. The boots she hated, but they were necessary as part of her Inquisitor act - and there it was, festering like a wound just under the surface.

It had been six months since the Inquisition had completed its mission, six months since they mended the sky and brought the villain behind it to justice. And yet she had not been given the freedom to roam, to return to the wilderness. Whether or not she would ever be able to return to Clan Lavellan in person was a different matter altogether, but Skye yearned to have her peace and solitude returned to her for good. Once upon a time she had wondered whether that solitude might be shared with another, that they might travel Thedas together, never apart - stop. That would do no good. Before she could rethink her actions, she left her chambers, striding towards the entrance into the hall. Taking a breath, she pushed open the door, and strode into the hall, veering to the side of her advisors as she saw them. Cole was standing with them, discussing something in a low, earnest voice, and as she approached he stopped, stilled, and turned to look at her.

'You are brave,' he murmured, and vanished again. Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen all turned to look at her in turn, eyes widening as they saw the steely determination in her face for the first time in months. Josephine began to ask a question, but Skye held up a hand, and the Antivan fell silent.

'I have something to say.'

She took a breath. 'I have not been a good Inquisitor. I have not been what the Inquisition needed at its head. And for that, I can only apologise. I failed you all. I'm sorry.' She glanced at Leliana, knowing that her words echoed that of Divine Justinia's. 'But I dreamt last night. And I found him.' Cullen snapped to attention.

'Found who?' he asked abruptly. 'Solas?'

Skye nodded. 'He's alive, and safe, as far as I can tell. It's my intention to find him and bring him back to Skyhold. Back to home.' Leliana pursed her lips.

'May we inquire how this plan of yours will work?'

Skye turned to her. 'We will seek out Morrigan.' There were murmurs surrounding them now, and Skye cast an eye about to see that the great hall was filling with people. Cullen chuckled.

'I think they're expecting a speech.'

Josephine looked hopefully at her. 'It would do them good to have a new task to take to mind,' she suggested.

Skye sighed, before nodding her assent. Another act of the Inquisitor. She spun on her heel and moved to stand on the raised dais, just in front of the Inquisitor's chair. Despite herself, she enjoyed the excitement. Her aura crackled with the energy, and she could sense the piqued interest of the mages standing within the hall, their own auras rising to meet hers. 'Members of the Inquisition!' she called. All stood to attention, all eyes in the hall focusing upon her. Skye swallowed. 'I have had word from the elven mage, Solas,' she announced. 'He is alive. And I intend to find him, and bring him home. The Inquisition owes much to him - I myself owe him my life many times over. Without him, we would have known far less, perhaps nothing at all, about the Breach in the sky. We would not have known about the Anchor,' she lifted the offending hand briefly into the air, 'And we would certainly not have found Skyhold without his guidance.'

Skye paused, watching the words ripple over her rapt audience.

'I will need volunteers to help. Messengers to send word of our search. Spies to watch and discover what they can. And some to stay and help with the running of Skyhold whilst I am away.' The hall began to buzz. Skye raised her hands for silence. 'Yes, you heard that correctly. I will be leading the search personally, and I will not return to Skyhold until Solas is at my side.' She was fierce in this, and the advisors exchanged surprised glances. But Skye was reading the room, and the air was almost visibly rippling with excitement at her words. She raised her hand, making a fist. 'Will you support my quest?' She called, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd. 'Will you continue to uphold the Inquisition?' Another cheer. 'Will you do me proud?' she shouted at the last, and the answering roar was greater than before. She bowed her head, grinning, before leaving the dais.

As Skye strode to her advisors, one thing was abundantly clear; the Inquisitor had truly returned, and she was on a mission.


	4. Revelations

Skye had led the way to the War Room, and it wasn't until she walked around the table, watching the doors close, that she saw who had followed her in; Cullen, Josephine and Leliana had led the way, but the remnants of her companions had joined them in the fracas. Although Dorian had taken a brief respite to deal with affairs in Minrathous, and the Chargers had taken a mission somewhere near Denerim, all the rest were accounted for, more or less. Sera and Varric and strolled in together, the elf looking fiercely at Cole who lurked close to Varric's side. Cassandra and Blackwall had closed the doors behind them, and Skye let out a deep breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Vivienne would have been helpful, she realized - the mage's indomitable will and her steely focus would have aided greatly in convincing the advisors. They were still unimpressed with her stunt in the hall, noted from Josephine's frowning gaze and Cullen's uncomfortable posture. They watched her in silence, curiosity on all their features.

'I'm going to lead an expedition to find Solas,' she admitted. 'You won't stop me.'

Blackwall cleared his throat. 'No one is going to stop you here, my dear, but you have to understand how little we know about the situation.' She nodded gratefully at the man, who smiled in return.

'I found Solas in the Fade last night,' she said slowly. 'He's still alive, and safe, as far as I could tell.' Her cheeks flamed as she remembered the sensation of his kiss. Sera giggled.

'I know that look,' she said, smirking. 'Elven glory, anyone?' Now Skye's ears joined the rest of her face, turning pink at the tips.

'No,' she answered hastily, but she could hear Blackwall and Varric chuckling. Even Cassandra was trying to hide a smile. 'Stop it,' she snapped, and they stopped at once, Blackwall allowing a final snort and a dig in the ribs from Sera. 'I don't know where he is,' she admitted, attempting to continue, 'But he was so…lost, last night. He needs to come home.'

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. 'If he is truly lost, Inquisitor, that could just as well imply that he doesn't want to be found.' She nodded.

'I know what it would imply,' Skye answered. Briefly, she gestured to her bare face. 'But he cannot do this to me and then just leave, and expect that I won't come after him for answers.'

It was Varric's turn to respond. 'Sounds to me like you're right. He's spent too much time alone,' he grunted. 'Ah, Chuckles…what did you do this time?' Leliana interrupted as talk broke out across the room.

'We need a plan, Skye,' she said smoothly. 'I'm hoping that you wouldn't have made an announcement like you did without one in mind?' Skye nodded slowly. '

I want to contact Morrigan. I know we've had those wheels in motion for a while,' she hastened to add, 'But I believe we should renew our efforts. Tonight, as well, I'll try and find Solas again. Talk to him about his coming home.' She looked around the room, meeting eyes with each of the people she had come to call her friends. 'I know that what happened with Solas was our private affair,' she said quietly, 'And I know that this is a responsibility I am willing to take on alone-' Sera snorted, interrupting her.

'We're friends and family, clodhead,' she answered. 'We're in this together, yeah?' A chorus of voices echoed her sentiments, and Skye smiled gratefully.

'Thank you,' she said softly. Then Cullen stepped forward, concern dawning in his eyes.

'Skye,' he said, then cleared his throat, uncomfortably. 'Inquisitor,' he started again, sounding much more formal. 'When you came back from Crestwood…are you saying that Solas took away your markings?' The room stilled. Clearly, Cullen had been the only one to pick up on that. She sighed, and drew her hand across her face.

'It's…yes. He took away the vallaslin.' There was a still silence in the room at that. Cole looked at her sadly.

'You are so beautiful,' he murmured, and she shivered.

'Don't, Cole.'

Leliana looked between them. 'We have always maintained a silence on the matter, Inquisitor,' she began. 'Whatever happened between you and Solas was your own business.' She gestured to Skye's face. 'But I do feel we are owed an explanation about this.' There were murmurs of agreement, and heads nodded, and Skye's stomach turned.

'It's…difficult.' Cole came to stand beside her.

'I will tell them?' he offered, and Skye tilted her head, confused. Cole looked at her friends. 'The writing was in blood,' he stated slowly and clearly, 'And the slaves would throw away their chains.' He smiled brightly, unaware that, if possible, the group was more confused and concerned than before. Josephine looked at Skye helplessly.

'Inquisitor?'

Skye sighed. 'We went to Crestwood. Solas had said there was something there…and he had something to tell me.' She gestured to her face. 'The vallaslin - the Dalish use it as a mark of pride, to honour our gods.' A pause. 'The ones we thought were gods were as bad as Tevinter. They enslaved the people of Elvhenan, branded them with their marks to claim them as their people. It turns out that it was just another thing the Dalish got wrong.' There was a tremor in her voice as she relived the memory of those words, and Cole grasped her hand briefly, bringing her back to the moment.

Skye looked down at her feet, unwilling to face her friends now that they knew the truth of her markings, that she had once worn with such pride. 'He said that he knew a spell to remove them. The Dalish have always wanted the freedom of the elves; once I knew the truth, I wanted the markings gone. So he took them. And then he left.' Anger coiled inside her. 'He promised to give me answers after Corypheus had been defeated,' she whispered, only half to the group. 'But all I heard was an apology, and then he was gone.'


	5. Memoriam

Quickly, battle plans were drawn. Skye listened as Josephine recounted their sending of the ravens to Alistair and to Aurelie. Leliana, particularly, stressed the importance of the letter to the Warden-Commander.

'I fought alongside her and Alistair for a year,' she insisted. 'There is nothing she would not do to save their relationship, even if it meant giving up Kieran and Morrigan to us, if she thought it was the right thing to do.' The Inquisitor nodded, glancing through the report with a quick eye. The spymaster held out another, and Skye took it, reading excerpts aloud as she paced the length of the War Table.

''A human woman, bearing the likeness of the missing Witch, has been seen in Redcliffe in recent weeks…' no mention of Kieran, though.' She sighed. ''The remnants of a child's body, presumed male, has been found in a ditch near the region of Lower Crestwood.'' She looked at Leliana incredulously. 'Seriously? That's awful.'

Leliana raised an eyebrow. 'These are just excerpts, Inquisitor, I can assure you.'

Finally, Cullen handed over his own report, a slim, single piece of parchment with a note of thanks written upon it. 'Thanks, from the University of Orlais,' Cullen explained, and Skye sighed.

'I trust the soldiers protected the Temple?' The Commander nodded.

'The soldiers did well. More than once we caught an overeager researcher trying to take a piece back to Orlais with them.' Skye's eyes narrowed. 'The Temple remains intact, I hope.' Her tone was clipped, and Cullen nodded quickly.

'Of course! We kept the Temple secure, and returned on schedule.'

By all accounts, the researchers had had a wonderful time nevertheless, and it was rumoured that the university in Val Royeaux intended to open a new library wing dedicted entirely to the studies of Elven Mythology. Skye confirmed the advisor's tasks before they left the room; sending the soldiers to scout the body and any further rumours in Crestwood, the spies to Redcliffe, seeking out the mysterious woman, and Josephine was more than happy to return to her desk and write to her allies in the Orlesian Court for more information about the Empress's arcane advisor. In addition, Skye had requested that the new Divine be given an invitation to Skyhold. The ceremony wasn't for another two months, and Skye suspected that the power was already going to Vivienne's head - getting her hands dirty might help. Having been given their orders, the advisors bowed to her, and each gave her a kind smile, one that she returned gratefully, before dispersing from the room.

The door closed behind them, and Skye leant with both hands on the War Table, sagging visibly. Cole stepped forward again, his hand outstretched to help her, but she shook her head.

'I'm fine, Cole,' she said quietly. 'I'm just tired.' Looking at her, it was easy to see the exhaustion in her eyes, the dull sheen to her hair, the way it hung, loose and tired, down her back. Blackwall stepped forward, clearing his throat.

'I don't want to exhaust you, Skye,' he said gently. She looked up, meeting his gaze.

'Not at all, Blackwall,' she answered. He ducked his head.

'What would you like the rest of us to do for you? Perhaps I can try and reach some of the contacts I made when I was wandering Ferelden, if you'd like? See if any of them have seen Solas?' Sera, who had been sitting cross-legged against the wall, leapt to her feet.

'The little people might be able to help as well,' she added eagerly. Skye nodded gratefully at them.

'That could definitely prove of good use. Thank you, my friends,' she answered. Varric grunted.

'I might not be able to do much to help here, Skye, but putting out a few feelers in Kirkwall couldn't hurt.' Skye nodded again, and the three of them left the room, presumably heading straight to the rookery.

It was the three of them, then. Cassandra, Cole and Skye were left staring at the map in the War Room. The Seeker shifted from foot to foot.

'I don't know what I can offer in ways of help,' she admitted eventually, her voice soft. 'I would say I would contact the Seekers, but I've yet to find any after what happened at Caer Oswin.' Skye shook her head, her eyes kind.

'You have been at my side the longest in this Inquisition, Cassandra,' she replied. 'You are one of my closest friends here, one of the people I know I can truly depend upon. I would be honoured if you were to accompany me on the expedition.'

Cassandra's answering smile seemed to light up her whole face, and she threw decorum to the winds, walking around the table and enveloping the slim elf in a hug.

'The honour would be mine, my friend,' she answered, and then she, too, left. Finally, it was just Cole left. He stared at her from underneath his hat.

'You know how I can help,' he said softly, and Skye nodded, her eyes closing briefly. 'I don't need to sleep,' he murmured, 'But I will stay and dream tonight, if you like. I can help.' The elf was exhausted, both mentally and physically, the exhilaration of the past day of planning beginning to grind into her mind, and Cole's simple kindness sought to ruin her. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision, and Cole took her hand and led her gently from the War Room. He guided her through the now darkened hall, and in a corner of the roof, where the repairs had never reached, Skye could see the faint glimmering of tears. Cole led her back up to her quarters, and whilst she changed into her bedclothes, he lit the fire, singing an ancient elvish song that she hadn't heard since her father was alive. The memory of it made her eyes sting, and she closed them, listening to the song.

_'Fen sulenem i melahn'an fen numen, alas'en laiem i rosem ena'sal. Fen erare i thenamah, danemah atisha tarasyl'an...'_

Skye whispered the words as they resounded through the room. 'I always wondered what it meant,' she said aloud. Cole fell silent.

'It's an elven song,' he said eventually, and Skye sighed.

'I know that, Cole. It's supposed to be a song about Fen'Harel and his betrayal of the creators. But then…'he cried.'' She sat on her bed, deftly braiding her hair for sleep, and tying the end with a loose thread. 'It never made any sense.' Cole stood from his position by the fire, and turned to face her. His eyes were sad.

'One day, you will understand.'

She made a vague noise of assent, followed shortly by a yawn. 'Will you sing it again?' she asked, pulling back her bedcovers, and Cole nodded.

'Of course.' He began to sing, and she curled underneath her quilt, the gentle sounds of the elven tongue lulling her eyes to close. He finished, and Cole hovered, before sitting himself on the bed beside her.

'Cole,' she yawned, 'Are you sure?' The spirit boy smiled at her.

'Heavy eyes, heavy heart, scared to dream but you want to find him,' he answered softly. She stared at him, despite her tiredness.

'I thought you said the Anchor burned too bright for you to read me?' He chuckled.

'I don't need to read you to know that.' Then he grew serious, staring at her with those pale blue eyes. 'You don't want to be alone. So I'll stay. I'll help you travel in the dreams.' Skye reached for his head, and held it tight.

'You always know what to do. Thank you, Cole.' She was still holding his hand as her eyes closed, and she was still holding his hand when he guided her mind into the Fade.

Skye opened her eyes to see that they were standing in an empty preservation of Haven. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks as she recognised the two figures emerging from the Chantry. Cole looked around in wonder.

'He was important to you here,' he said, and she nodded mutely. Solas was gesturing at the sky, and Skye could see herself watching him avidly. If her companion saw this, it would mean weeks of questions and discussions, for sure. She had kept the dream, and its contents, to herself successfully for - years, now, actually. And Skye wasn't in any hurry to divulge the kiss to her innocent friend.

'Let's go, Cole,' she said, tugging his hand and willing the dream to dissolve. 'Help me search.' He nodded, but then his back stiffened. Heart sinking, Skye followed his gaze to the two figures now kissing passionately.

'That's you! And Solas!' Cole was almost childlike in his watching of the memory, and a wistful smile tugged at his mouth. 'He needed you like he needed to breathe,' he murmured. 'You made him feel again and it scared him, it goes against his duty, we shouldn't, it isn't right, not even here.' He paused, and Skye concentrated, dissolving the memory a moment later. Haven disappeared in black smoke around them, leaving Cole blinking, startled.

He looked at her, confused, and Skye shook her head. 'I'm sorry,' she apologized, 'But this memory was personal.' He nodded, squeezing her hand briefly.

'I understand,' he answered, smiling at her. Then he released her hand, and began to walk through the Fade. Skye followed him, and she could feel a question begging to be asked, burning on her tongue.

'Cole,' she began. 'That memory…even though that it is all it was, you still knew his thoughts.' Cole stopped, just a few steps ahead of her. His back to her, Skye paused behind him.

'Did you know?' she asked quietly. 'Did you know that he would leave?' He did not reply, not for some time, and Skye wrung her hands anxiously, her heart beating a little faster with each moment of silence. 'Cole?'

The boy turned to face her, and Skye saw the misery in his eyes. She took a step back. 'You did know.' He twisted his hands desperately.

'He made me promise, and then he made me forget!' Cole's eyes were wild, and full of sorrow. 'I don't know who he is,' he whispered. 'He didn't want you to know either, or anyone, so he lied. He just wanted to protect you.' She shook her head, and the Fade reshaped to follow her mood, turning dark and thunderous above them.

'He lied to me the entire time,' she said flatly. Cole didn't deny the assumption, and she pressed her hands to her mouth in shock. Tears began to gather in the corner of her eyes. It felt like the world around her was crumbling, and the ground beneath them rumbled in response. Her dream of reuniting with Solas now seemed like just that; a fragile, fragmented dream. The Solas she had come to know during the course of the Inquisition, the Solas she had fallen in love with, the Solas who had been at her side, who she had trusted with her life, wasn't real. It was a façade, and she wondered if any of it had ever been real. She looked miserably at her companion. He sighed, and shook his head, his gentle face sad.

Behind Cole, she caught a flash of movement, and Skye stood straight as a figure walked out of the thick green mist. Tall for an elf, Solas moved with a loping grace towards her, a staff in his hand, a gilded knife at his belt. He had changed in appearance since the previous night, and now that he was no longer wearing her memory of him, Skye could see differences to how he had looked after fighting with Corypheus. New scars graced his face, and his eyes were dark, and haunted. No longer dressed in Inquisition armour, Solas wore elven robes, collared with fur around the neck and sleeves. He stood imposingly, and the very places he stepped upon crackled with energy. He wasn't the Solas she knew. This elf in front of her was a warrior, so unlike the gentle mage she had known and had come to love. As he came closer, his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

'Vhenan,' he breathed, and slowly reached out a hand towards her. Skye flinched, stepping back, and his face fell. Cole turned, his lips parting in surprise at the elf's appearance, and moved to stand protectively in front of her.

'She knows you lied,' he called across the space, and Solas frowned, pausing for a moment.

'Whatever Cole did or did not do, it was of my asking. But know I did it to protect you,' he answered. 'Ir abelas, vhenan. I never meant to hurt you.' Skye was still frozen in place, and his words sent both boiling anger and freezing hurt through her heart. The air around her crackled and misted simultaneously, and Cole, feeling the energy gathering around her, moved away hastily.

'Be careful,' he warned her. 'It will still hurt him.' She glared at Solas furiously.

'Good.' Her magic sizzled, and she felt the energy coil around her fist. Throwing her hand forward, a bolt of lightning erupted from her palm, striking the spot where Solas had stood moments before. He looked at her, several steps away, aghast.

'Vhenan-'

'You lied to me,' she snarled, and launched another lightning bolt at him. Solas dodged, his calm demeanour quickly dissolving as he realised the situation was beyond his control.

'Skye-'

She stopped suddenly, the sound of her name drawing her away from anger. Cole saw the opportunity, and came to her side. Whispering words into her ear, Solas watched as the spirit gently took hold of her hands, releasing the last vestiges of anger. And as that anger dispersed, the confusion and the hurt took its place. Skye watched as the mist around them evaporated into the air, replaced with the cool air of Crestwood. A pond appeared, water spilling and overflowing from its bank, and thick tufts of grass grew from amazing speed from the floor. Fireflies flitted through the air, and both Cole and Solas turned to watch them pass in surprise. Skye watched them.

'You did this to protect me?' she asked brokenly, gesturing at the two shadows now kneeling by the pool. Solas watched as he removed her vallaslin, the way his fingers rested lightly against her cheek. Cole was transfixed.

'You are so beautiful,' he murmured, and Solas flinched. One final kiss, one ragged breath against her mouth, one final, silent apology. Then he broke away. 'I distracted you from your duty,' he heard himself say, and Skye shook her head.

'I love you,' she insisted, and the shame of what he had done, the pain that it would cause them both, threatened to ruin him.

'I'm sorry,' he stammered. 'I must return to Skyhold.' But this time he was not in the memory, and Solas saw the look on Skye's face as he walked away. He had left to hide the shame in his eyes, to persuade both of them that this was the right thing to do. Skye hadn't cared. She watched him leave, watched him round the corner, leaving the sheltered pond, and fell to her knees. Her shoulders shook as she wept, silently, and all the while Solas could hear the sound of the water in the pond, gently lapping at the edge of the grass.

'Vhenan,' he whispered, 'What did I do?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song, the lullaby, that Cole sings for Skye is one of my own creation, made using the Project Elvhen lexicon right here on AO3. It translates to: 'The wolf sung and then he cried, the world fell and rose again. The wolf sleeps and then he'll wake, the peaceful sky for him to break.'


	6. Regret

There was no answer from Skye, and both Cole and Solas swung around to face her. But there was only the emptiness of the Fade, and a smouldering flower, its petals curling with dark smoke, showed where she had stood. Solas took in a hitched breath. She had slipped away, and he could not sense her presence anywhere in the dreamscape. Cole was glaring at him.

'You made her leave.' He raised his hands in protest.

'I made no advance against her.'

Cole shook his head. 'You shut everyone away. They are people too!' His voice was defiant, and his words rang painfully in Solas's mind. He had no response, and Cole took a step back. 'I have to go now,' he said softly. 'I promised I would stay and help. She needs me.' The elf watched as Cole vanished after the Inquisitor, disappearing into the mist. Soon enough, Solas felt him, too, leave the Fade. He turned back to that final, fragmented image, the broken elf kneeling on the ground, the woman he had loved enough to wound them both.

'Ir abelas, ma sa'lath,' he murmured. There was nothing more to say, nothing more that would describe the loss he felt more keenly each moment he thought about her. In a swift movement, he turned, and walked away, disappearing into the mist and leaving the shattered scene of Crestwood behind. He settled himself on the ground once the pangs of memory had dissipated, and closed his eyes, willing himself into wakefulness.

His body was sore as he awoke, his head resting on a small, smooth outcropping of rock, his legs cramping as he stretched them out. The Crossroads had lost much of their beauty, and although the room he was in bore little of its former finery, Solas knew every inch of it, every seam and crack in the rocks, each lick of faded golden paint. It was where he had awoken from his millenniums of dreaming, where he had eagerly expected to emerge to the glory of Elvhenan. Where, instead, he had found the Crossroads crumbling, dying, and as he searched for his people, he encountered only those enslaved or cast out to the fringes of the wilderness. And, now that he was in hiding, it became his place once more. He stood, dusting himself down, and began the walk back to the eluvian that would take him to his next destination. It was a trek, and two hours had passed before Solas reached the dusty glass, wreathed as it was in mist. The glass was dark, and Solas briefly wondered if it would work. He gently pressed his hand against the glass, letting his regained powers hum for a moment, sending the glass into a shimmering frenzy as he passed through. It was a little like walking through a waterfall; Solas's vision blurred momentarily before clearing, and, as before, the sight of the Temple of Mythal took his breath away. Brightly coloured birds fluttered between the leafy trees, calling and squawking to one another, and they circled the gilded ceiling in pairs. In front of him lay the now-empty Well of Sorrows, the glittering blue chips that had once graced the water now dulled by the touch of the air upon them. He stood there a moment longer, taking in the view, before turning around and examining the mirror. Solas was surprised to find the faint cracks in the glass, and he could feel the magic of the Crossroads leaking through.

Behind him, he could hear footsteps approaching, and he spun around, his hand going to the knife in his belt. He relaxed as the figure appeared, an elf dressed in ancient robes, an ancient staff held in his fist. Solas relaxed as he realised who the elf.

'Andaran atish'an, Abelas,' Solas greeted him. Abelas started, his staff flickering momentarily with blue light, but he relaxed as he realised who the elven intruder was.

'You are back, elf?' he grunted. 'There is no more Well to drink from.' Solas sighed.

'I never needed the Well for its knowledge, Abelas,' he replied. 'It was you I needed to speak with. To apologise.' The elven sentinel raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Solas sighed. 'What transpired with the members of the Inquisition…with the Witch and the Inquisitor; I failed to realise the Witch's true intentions until it was too late. Allowing her to drink, however, was preferable under the circumstances. She would have killed you otherwise, you understand.' Abelas did not respond, merely nodding as he watched Solas with narrowed eyes. Solas gestured to the mirror behind him. 'I am glad to see the repair of the eluvian,' he said weakly, hoping to provoke a response. No such luck. The sentinel watched him with hawk-like eyes. Solas sighed. He had no choice, then.

'You remember me.'

It wasn't a question, and Abelas tilted his head slightly. 'When I bore the news millennia ago. It broke many of your people here.' Abelas nodded once. Solas watched him. 'Do you fear me?' he blurted suddenly, hating the prickle of nerves he felt, even as he asked the question. The sentinel raised an eyebrow.

'Why would I fear the Wolf? You were a friend to Mythal, so you said. I do not fear those who befriended my goddess.' Solas released a breath he had not been aware of holding. A friend, at last. The past months had been lonely, even for one accustomed to solitude, and the idea that here, finally, was someone he did not have to hide himself from was welcome. He gestured to the floor, taking up a seat on the gilded, carven stone, and Abelas followed suit, albeit slowly. He watched the Wolf with careful eyes.

'What troubles you?' he asked. Solas shook his head.

'I made a terrible mistake,' he answered softly. 'I became…distracted from my duty. I both love and loathe the cause.' Abelas said nothing. Solas sighed, pressing his hand briefly to the bridge of his nose. 'My goal to restore the People has been my focus from the start,' he said aloud, wistfully. 'But 'they are people too.'' Cole's words echoed to the forefront of his mind, and Abelas looked surprised to hear them say it.

'The pretenders?' he asked, abruptly. 'What would give you the notion that they are anything like us?'

Solas looked at him sharply. 'I have walked among them, Abelas,' he answered. 'They are lost, yes, but - but not all of them were impossible to understand. Some were more akin to us than I thought would be possible in this world.' Abelas watched him a moment longer, before an understanding smile shaped his face.

'You fell for a Dalish?' Solas looked at him, his eyes weary and sorrowful.

'Is it so obvious, nor impossible?' he asked him quietly. 'She was - unique. And deserved more than I could ever give her. I thought it kinder to leave.' Abelas watched, perhaps sensing the unspoken words still wishing to be spoken. 'Her spirit is extraordinary,' Solas admitted suddenly. 'I was surprised to find one so ignorant, yet so open to learn, so inquisitive, so innocent. Even now, she walks in her dreams, and it is almost impossible to resist her. Yet when I cannot any longer, and show myself, she flees from me, abandoning the Fade altogether.' Solas sighed. 'I should have told her the truth.'

Abelas gave him the ghost of a smile. 'Regret will only bring you sorrow,' he said. 'What's done is done. Forget her, and look forward - use the past to correct your future.'

Solas stared at him a moment. 'I wish it were that easy,' he said, with a mirthless chuckle. 'I only wish I could forget.'


	7. Din'an

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The following two chapters contain elements of suicide.

Abelas sat with Solas until the sky darkened, stars peeking in between the cracks and holes in the ceiling of the ruined Temple. Then the two parted, Solas disappearing back into the network of the Crossroads, Abelas to wherever his resting quarters now sat. The elf walked through the ruins he had created, stopping to consider a small waterfall, falling endlessly into the mist that wreathed the chasms below. A spark of movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned abruptly, spying the offending eluvian that had suddenly activated. He tensed, fire instantly writhing in his hands, waiting for someone to pass through. But they did not, and the eluvian continued to glow, emitting a pale blue light as the glass vibrated and rippled without touch.

Solas relaxed his magic, and prowled forward one step, two, another, until he was directly in front of it. There was still no sign of movement, and, somehow, Solas felt a tugging sensation in his gut, pulling him towards this mirror. The power he had gained from Mythal coiled in his stomach uncomfortably, humming up and down his body as he stared at the mirror. It was as if the Crossroads itself was showing him a path that he had yet to begin. It would not be unheard of - although Solas had long since severed the natural bridge of magic between the Fade and reality, he could still sense the extraordinary power that rested in this inbetween place. He touched a hand experimentally to the glass, and it seemed to shiver at his touch, yielding to allow him passage through the glass. His magic was singing to him, harmonious, every nerve in his body tingling with it, and somehow he knew that this mirror, wherever it leaded, was somewhere he needed to visit.

Skye awoke suddenly, and sat bolt upright, blinking away hot tears as the memory of her dream came back to her. Her room was dark, the fire that Cole had lit long burnt away, and Skye could see the faint and early stars beginning to appear in the night sky above the mountains. She had run through the Fade, and slept the day away. Again. Slipping her hand out of Cole's, Skye silently slipped out of the bed, moving to lean against the balcony, taking a deep breath of cold air as she thought over all she had learnt. Pain washed over her at the reminder of Cole's revelation. The man she had trusted implicitly, with her life, had been a lie. He had been a constant, ever since the explosion at the Conclave, always at her side with words of advice or comfort. But the Solas as she knew him did not exist, not anymore. Perhaps he never had. It had all been a game to him, and one that he had ceased to play. She frowned. Had she really been nothing more than a distraction to him? No, he had acknowledged his love for her many times over.

That made it worse, actually.

Skye could feel her eyes begin to prickle again, and a hand on her shoulder made her jump. Cole was standing there, his hair askew from sleep, and without his hat Skye was reminded of the spirit's relative youth.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, unable to meet her eyes. 'I should have known.' Skye shook her head, biting her lip.

'No, Cole,' she answered gently. 'If anyone had a chance of knowing him, it was me. And clearly I failed in that.' She let out a shaky breath. Fresh pain tore at her heart. 'It hurts, Cole,' Skye whispered. For once, Cole had no words of comfort to offer her. The knowledge that not even a spirit of Compassion could bring her peace made Skye's mood darken even further. If Compassion could not help, then how could anything else? She felt her stomach sink, and she felt suddenly cold with realisation. That was the answer, then.

'Leave me, Cole,' she said softly. He looked at her, perhaps sensing her decision, and he shook his head.

'No,' he answered firmly, panic seeping into the edges of his tone. 'You shouldn't be alone, you need me here, I can help!' She looked at him, steel in her tired eyes.

'Go away.' Her eyes softened slightly as she spoke her next words. 'You're not real. I can't see you.' Cole paled visibly, his mouth opening in a silent shout of horror, even as he winked out of sight. Briefly, she hid her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving once in a silent sob. There was another wave of pain, and she could almost see how welcome the end would be when it came. She turned away from the balcony, away from the stars, away from the sight of the garden, where a slow flash of bright blue light was emanating from behind a closed door.


	8. Rescue

Solas had been surprised to find he had returned to Skyhold. Passing through the glass, the recognition of the room had prompted a wave of nostalgia. He would not so easily forget the day he had stumbled across the eluvian, restored and shining, hidden away in a sealed room by the Witch. Solas shook his head abruptly, dislodging the memory. He could not remain, should never have returned. _And yet…_ he paused in his consideration of the mirror. It would be no easy matter to slip past the guards, and avoid any of the Nightingale's spies, but his fingers twitched at the thought of seeing her.

Even now, he would be able to see her balcony from just beyond the wooden door. It was too much to hope that she would be there, but even so…Solas made up his mind, turning away from the mirror and hurrying to the door. Just a brief moment, he reasoned to himself, just a glimpse of her and he would leave. He emerged into the courtyard garden, and looked up to the balcony, his heart skipping a beat as he saw a glimpse of movement just beyond the entrance to her balcony. That was that, then. He had promised himself that he would not, could not stay. Perhaps he would have left immediately, had it not been for the wild spirit who ran at him at full speed. Cole didn't seem to notice Solas until they both went flying.

'Cole!' Solas could not help but cry out as he fell, and even as he crashed into the ground, the elf saw the look of surprise and recognition that passed across the spirit's face.

'Solas?' The boy was upset and confused, and he watched as the elf regained his footing. 'She said she couldn't see me, and I didn't feel _real_ ,' he mourned, and Solas frowned.

'Who? The Inquisitor?'

Cole nodded, and Solas was horrified to see tears beginning to swim in his eyes.

'She sent me away, and I couldn't help, and not even the bright burning could hide how dark she was.'

Unease coiled in his stomach at Cole's words, and again he felt his magic tugging him towards her. 'Cole,' he said suddenly, 'Make them forget me. Take me to her.' _Perhaps I can help_ , he added silently, and Cole looked at him, relieved.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' he said fervently, before taking Solas's hand and pulling him through the courtyard and into the Great Hall. They moved silently into her tower, Cole whispering words to twist the memory of the guard on duty, and the two of them climbed the stone stairs. Solas reached her quarters first, and pushed open her door, gently, silently, hoping not to disturb her too greatly when she saw who it was.

He was horrified to see her standing atop the balcony wall, her back to him as he entered her quarters. She looked majestic in the most macabre fashion, the rising moon covering her silhouette in a soft sheen of silver. Her arms were lifted, and Solas briefly imagined her as a winged creature, about to take flight. But she would not fly tonight.

'She means to fall,' Cole murmured, horrified, and Solas began to move to her, darting across the room just as she took a step forward, one foot dangling perilously in the air.

'Vhenan!' he cried out, and she turned, startled, her face deathly pale, her eyes full of frightened recognition, and disbelief.

'Sol...Solas?'

He nodded, stepping towards her, his hand outstretched.

'Vhenan, do not do this. You are stronger than this.'

Skye shook her head, fresh tears appearing in her eyes. 'This isn't real, you're not here. I'm still dreaming.'

He shook his head. 'No, Skye. I am here, and this is real. Vhenan, please, listen to me.'

She watched him, and his heart seemed to skip a beat as she turned back to look at the perilous drop below. 'I can't do it. _I can't._ I'm so tired, Solas.' Skye looked as if she was about to faint, and as she turned back towards him she swayed backwards slightly. Solas felt a fresh wave of alarm course through him.

'Skye,' he pleaded, 'Please, come away from the balcony. I promised I would keep you safe. Allow me to fulfil my duty to you. _Please_ , _vhenan_.' He took another step, and another, until he was standing right in front of her. She was still staring at him, watching him, and in a slow movement he took her hand in his.

The contact made her jump, and Cole appeared on her other side, extending his hand for the same gesture. Together, mage and spirit helped the Inquisitor step down from the balcony, and she fell against Solas, the shock of what had just happened finally overcoming her. Her knees buckled as she began to weep, and Solas swept her up, carrying her in his arms to the bed. She was so light, so frail, and Solas could feel another piece of his heart break at the knowledge that this was his fault. Again.

Gently, he laid her down, before sitting on the bed and holding her in his arms once more. He could feel her shaking with each breath, and buried his face in her hair, hiding his own tears from her. He could not afford to stay, could not derive from the din'an'shiral he had to walk, but it was not difficult to realize the feeling of peace that was settling within his ancient soul. In another world, he might have been permitted to stay with her. In another world, he might never have had to leave.

If only it was that other world. Solas could feel Skye going slack against him, and Cole came closer. 'She's sleeping now,' he whispered, and Solas looked up at him.

'Cole,' he said softly, 'You know what I must ask of you.' Gently, he extracted himself from Skye's embrace, and came to stand in front of the spirit. 'Please. Make her forget.'

Cole shook his head, angrily. 'It is not fair to either of you,' he answered. 'You love each other! That should be enough, but it isn't. It's not fair.'

Solas nodded, miserable. 'I know. But you know what I must do. I cannot stay here any longer.' Cole looked at the sleeping elf.

'She loves you so much,' he said softly, and Solas flinched.

'Make her forget, Cole,' he instructed. 'Tell her that it was you alone who stopped her. I…I need more time. It would not be kind to burden her with my task.' His excuse was pitiful, but fair, and Cole looked at him, carefully.

'You swear to tell her all one day?' he asked. Solas nodded, unable to speak as the enormity of his task once again washed over him.  Cole sighed, before placing his hand on Skye's forehead. He hummed, an unfamiliar tune, and Skye stirred in her sleep. 'She will wake, and it will be forgotten', Cole said sadly. 'You have to go. Otherwise she will remember you.'

Solas stepped back from the bed, unwilling to tear his eyes away from her. 'Now, Solas!' Cole hissed, and he turned to flee. Casting a spell of concealment, Solas slipped down the steps, leaving the Inquisitor's quarters, and made his way back to the eluvian in the garden.

Slowly and quietly, he eased open the door, and was surprised to find the mirror darkened, almost rusted from disuse. But that was impossible - he himself had come through only an hour past. He touched the glass lightly with a fingertip, frowning in curiosity as the mirror refused to activate at his touch. He was so absorbed he neither noticed nor heard the door open again behind him, and when a voice spoke, Solas jumped about a foot into the air.

'She used to sit in here for hours and wait for you to appear through it, you know,' the voice said, sadly. 'She always thought that that would be how you returned to her; through a magic mirror.'


	9. Helpless

Slowly, Solas turned around to face the voice, his posture humble as a red-haired woman leant against the now-closed door.

'Leliana,' he said smoothly, 'A pleasure to see you again.' She moved away, then, and took a step towards him. He tensed, and she smiled smugly at the movement.

'The same should be said of you, Solas,' she replied. 'So, how exactly did you manage to sneak back in? I have my agents stationed at all the ways into Skyhold.' Her eyes gleamed. 'Unless you know of a way that you didn't think to mention to me.' Solas took a small step back, raising his hands slightly in a gesture of peace.

'Believe me, it was not my intention to return tonight,' he insisted, choosing the truth for one. 'My presence was required, and I came to help. I have now helped, so now I must leave.' He gestured to the mirror behind him, and Leliana raised an eyebrow.

'You mean to say that you understand the workings of the eluvian, then?' Solas nodded.

'I have learnt much since Corypheus' defeat,' he lied. 'But I cannot stay. I am needed elsewhere.'

The spymaster leant back against the door, sighing.

'Do you have any idea what your presence here will mean to Lady Lavellan?' The sound of her name made him blanch, and Solas had to fight to keep his emotions in check.

'Oh? What will it mean?' Better to act like he no longer cared, to cut the ties further, be banished from this place. Perhaps that might keep him away, for good this time. The spymaster glared at him.

'She means to find you,' she spat suddenly. 'She's barely slept, barely ate, barely smiled since you left, elf. Just yesterday she decided on another course of action; claiming to have met with you in her dreams, that you were alive. Clearly, she was right.' Solas looked at her with widened eyes, surprised by the fierceness of the normally self-controlled spy.

'What was she planning?' he wondered aloud. He had not known that his presence in the Fade would cause her to start searching for him; she could not be allowed to interfere in his plans, even in ignorance.

'She wanted to find Morrigan, primarily,' Leliana answered. 'She thought that seeing as how Morrigan is considered by many to be an extremely powerful mage, the witch might know how to find you.' She snorted, rolling her eyes. 'Although I suppose now that isn't necessary.' She straightened up once again, this time producing a pair of handcuffs from her belt.

'You know, since you've been gone my agents have been doing a little digging on you. The village you claimed to herald from has been abandoned for centuries. I'm not even sure that 'Solas' is your true name. It's time we knew the truth.' She had moved closer as she spoke, and Solas pressed himself against the mirror, willing it to glow, willing to fall through the enchanted glass. But he did not, and only now did he feel a flash of panic.

He had no staff to wield his magic, and he raised his palms at her, feeling the rush of mana as it fled into his fingers. It had been some time since he had not had a staff, but Solas felt fairly confident that he could take on Leliana.

'Please,' he asked her, 'Let me leave you in peace. I do not wish to harm anyone unnecessarily. All I ask is that you do not tell the Inquisitor that I was here.' Leliana shook her head.

'You are a threat to this Inquisition, and to her, mage,' she answered. 'For what it's worth, I'm sorry.' She moved towards him.

It was then that he felt the strange tugging sensation in his gut once more. The power he had taken from Mythal was almost sentient, and he could sense the magic beginning to hum. It wasn't harmonious this time, however; it grated on his senses, on his very soul, sending a shiver down his spine as the magic shrieked from within him. Solas staggered, shaking his head as he fought to contain the magic burning inside.

'Run, spymaster,' he begged, and she stopped, confusion in her eyes. 'Please,' he begged again. 'I am losing control.' She frowned at that.

'Is that a threat, mage?'

Solas gasped as the magic burned like liquid fire inside him. It was vicious, wild, and he could not control it.

Leliana watched as he focused his palms slowly at her. He seemed to be struggling; his hands shook, and his eyes were filled with wild despair.

'I'm sorry,' he managed. Her eyes widened, as she realised what was about to happen. She turned, made to dash for the door. But as she tried the handle, she remembered, belatedly, that she had locked it behind her. As she turned, pressing her body against the wall and into the corner, shrinking away from Solas, she watched him as he shaped an incantation. His eyes seemed to flash, briefly, and then a bolt of purple light erupted from his hands, engulfing her. Pain, beyond anything she had ever known, lanced through her, and she collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain. Blood poured over her skin, oozing from the claw marks that had ripped through her clothing and lacerated her skin, carving deep wounds into her body even as she seized and jerked on the floor. To a bystander, it would have seemed she had been attacked and mangled by a deadly animal.

As soon as the spell had been released, Mythal's powers quieted, and Solas regained control of his hands almost immediately after. He was shaken, numb. What had happened? He had failed to control that which he had known all his long life. Leliana was still on the floor, her eyes unfocused, her mouth shaping silenced cries of pain. Someone pounded on the other side of the door.

'Lady Nightingale!'

'Leliana!'

'What's happening in there?'

He stood still, still staring at the bloodied Orlesian as she lay there, almost unconscious from the pain, blood staining her clothes and skin.

'Ir abelas, Leliana, truly.' He turned back towards the mirror, desperately slamming his palm against the glass and willing it to shimmer beneath his touch. At least Leliana had thought to lock the door. The soldiers were close to breaking it down, but they were not yet through, giving Solas the extra precious moments he needed to attempt to activate the eluvian. Behind him, Cullen's voice was echoing through the door, giving orders as a body slammed into the wood again and again. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, and in desperation he struck at the glass.

'Emma isala halani!' he shouted. 'Fen'Harel nuvenin ne!'

At the mention of his title, the mirror shimmered, glowing with a bright blue light. Behind him, the door splintered, and Solas turned, for a brief moment, meeting eyes with Commander Cullen through a newly made hole in the wood as his soldiers continued to break the door down. Then he spun back around, and fled, diving into the eluvian and the safety of the Crossroads as the soldiers finally broke through the wood. Cullen strode into the room, and one of Leliana's agents went directly to the mirror, whose blue glow was already dimming. He pressed a hand to it, experimentally, then shook his head.

'It's sealed,' he reported, and Cullen turned to Leliana, huddled in the corner.

'Maker's breath,' he whispered, shocked as he realized the full extent, the sheer viciousness of her wounds. 'Someone fetch the healers, quickly!' Gently, he lifted the wounded woman into his arms and made for the infirmary as fast as he could move without hurting her. Leliana was quiet, still, save for a whimper of pain as she was lifted by him.

'Skye,' she gasped. 'Skye needs to know…' She trailed off as Cullen nodded, shushing her.

'Keep still, and let's save you first,' he assured her. 'Then we can speak to Lavellan.'

Solas had fallen to his knees in the Crossroads, dismissing the eluvian with no more than a thought. It flared, briefly, before fading back to its rusted state, and he stared at his hands. What had happened back there? Mythal's power had not been controlled, could not have been controlled. The feeling of power was swimming through his veins - power that he had not had since his time as the Dread Wolf. He was strong again - too strong to control the power he held without a foci orb. What had he unleashed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Emma isala halani!' - I am in need of aid!  
> 'Fen'Harel nuvenin ne!' - Fen'Harel is in need of you!


	10. Knowledge

As Cullen settled Leliana in the infirmary, Cassandra burst through the door behind him.

'What happened?' she asked tightly. The surgeon coughed, glaring at Cullen, and he ushered the frenzied Seeker outside.

'Leliana is in good hands, Cassandra, but we can't bombard her with questions just yet. She's fighting for her life.' Cassandra frowned at him.

'Cullen. What. Happened.'

Cullen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

'It sounds…bizarre, I'm well aware, but it was Solas.' Cassandra stared at him, disbelieving. 'I saw him,' he continued simply. 'It seems that he attacked Leliana, using some sort of spell, before escaping through the eluvian that Morrigan left behind.' He shook his head. 'The look in his eyes as he fled…He was frightened, Cassandra.'

'Frightened?' she asked. Cullen nodded.

'Whatever he did to our spymaster, I don't believe he was in control.' She had no answer for a moment, and Cullen knew how she felt. It had been Cassandra that Solas had approached, right at the beginning. She had met him first in the immediate aftermath of the Breach, and not once had he ever seemed to lose control. For him to have attacked Leliana…Cassandra was pale.

'Cullen, we are going to have to tell her what's happened.' He knew exactly who she was talking about.

'You or me?' he asked, squaring his shoulders. She looked at him hopefully.

'I would like to stay with Leliana, Commander. Would it be so much of a problem for you?' Cullen sighed.

'You owe me a drink for this.'

Cole had not left Skye's side. She had awoken slowly, confused and upset.

'Solas…' she murmured, and Cole shook his head.

'No. Just me.' It prompted more tears, and Cole had comforted her, his slim form providing familiar comfort as he hugged her close. 'You tried to fall,' he whispered, 'But I saved you. It was frightening.' Skye thanked the Creators for his presence - what a fool she had been. Without the spirit, she would have continued with her mad plan, and jumped. She would be dead. But Cole had saved her, and now she seemed to have some measure of clarity.

'I'm sorry,' she said, her voice muffled as she buried her head into his shoulder. 'I won't try again.' Cole continued to hold her and soothe her, Compassion needed more now than ever, and they stayed that way for some time, motionless until there came a knock on the door into her chambers.

'Skye?' A voice came from the other side of the door, muffled slightly. 'It's Cullen. May I come in?' Skye broke away from Cole.

'Yes? Come in!' she answered, hurriedly wiping away the remnants of her tears as the soldier climbed the steps.

'My lady,' he said, and stopped short at the sight of the spirit. 'Oh. Hello, Cole.' He was not unfriendly towards him, but merely cautious - Skye knew the turmoil he felt inside towards the spirit, even if he was a former Templar. Cole looked at him.

'Hello, Cullen.' He started, leaping from the bed. 'I want to go and help.'

Cullen sighed, gesturing with his hand to the door. 'She's in the infirmary. Just be careful,' he warned, and Cole left without another thought. Skye watched him go, her eyes flicking back to Cullen.

'What's going on? Has someone been injured?' The commander did not respond immediately, his hand reaching up and raking through his curls. He exhaled, as if to steel himself to break what news he had to her. She stilled, frowning.

'Cullen?'

He couldn't look her in the eye.

'There has been…an incident, Inquisitor. Involving Leliana. I'm afraid she was attacked in the chamber holding the eluvian.' Skye looked at him, growing pale with shock as the news sunk in.

'What? What happened? Is she alright? What did the mages say?' He shook his head.

'She's in the infirmary, but it's not yet clear if she will survive her wounds. The spell used was…savage, to say the least.' He paused, the memory of the bloodied Leliana returning to the forefront of his mind. 'It was like she had been attacked by a wild animal, Inquisitor. It was horrific.' Skye tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she took in Cullen's words.

'A spell? You mean to say a mage caused this?' He nodded, then took a deep breath.

'I'm so sorry, Skye,' he said softly. 'But we know who it was.' Now she was scowling.

'I really hope you're not accusing me of anything, Commander.' He raised his hands in protest.

'Of course not! I would never do that, Skye, you know me better than that.' He took another breath.

'It was Solas, Skye. He was here. And he nearly killed Leliana.' There was silence in the room, and Cullen could feel the air rapidly growing cooler. Skye's face was stony, closed, but he could see her trying to deny his words.

'Solas?' she asked eventually, softly. He nodded.

'You're wrong,' she said, flatly. 'He can't have been here. No one has seen from him or heard from him in six months!' She shook her head, confusion replacing her fury. 'I thought…'

'What?'

'Earlier, I…it doesn't matter,' she answered, dismissing the idea as quickly as it had formed, her brow furrowed. 'That's not the point. It can't have been Solas who attacked Leliana.'

Cullen stared at her, disbelieving. 'I'm sorry, Skye, but it was him. I saw him with my own eyes, right before he disappeared into the eluvian.' Skye rose from the bed, shaking her head. 'You're wrong, Cullen. I know him! I would know if he was capable of this!' But even as she spoke, she remembered the night before, and remembered the revelations that had caused her such pain. Cullen saw her hesitation, and pressed his point, hating himself every step of the way. She needed to understand.

'I don't think you would.' His voice was low, but his words made the Inquisitor flinch, and she turned away from him, hiding her face. 'I don't think any of us truly knew him. He upped and vanished the day Corypheus was defeated, and it wasn't long before Leliana discovered that almost everything he told us about himself were lies. I know it hurts you, Skye, but Leliana's life now hangs in the damned balance, and from what I saw, Solas wasn't in control.' He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. 'I am sorry, Inquisitor. I can't begin to imagine what this news must mean to you. But if Solas has lost control, then the apostate needs to be apprehended, for everyone's safety.'

A drinking glass on the Inquisitor's desk exploded, suddenly, and tiny chips of crystal flew across the room. Cullen stepped back, shocked. Another, sat by the bed, followed suit.

'Skye!' he said, sharply. 'Calm yourself!' She still hadn't turned around, and Cullen took the opportunity to take a step closer. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him. Eyes shining, Skye looked up at him miserably.

'I don't know what to believe anymore,' she said, simply, and he nodded.

'I know. No one does.'


	11. Cullen

The news of Leliana's attack spread like wildfire overnight, and as the new day dawned Skye emerged slowly from her quarters. She had been hoping to go directly to Leliana's side, to offer what fragile words of comfort she had to give, but she stopped in her tracks as she saw the crowd that had gathered by the dais. As they noticed her presence, silence fell, and they watched her, expectantly.

Through the crowd, Cullen emerged, his face drawn, his eyes shadowed. He went to her side.

'I had hoped to avoid this,' he murmured, but before he could say more there came a polite cough from the crowd.

'Inquisitor?' An elderly stablehand took a step forward from the crowd, twisting his cap in his hands. 'How is Lady Leliana?' His name was Everett, she remembered suddenly. A survivor of the Blight, Leliana had helped his family evacuate from a small village before it had been overrun by darkspawn. He had remained in touch with the Orlesian ever since. And now, he looked at her with worried eyes - as did many of the people now standing in the great hall.

She couldn't answer. Guilt threatened to swallow her, and Cullen, seeing her face, intervened. He stepped forward, drawing the attention, and she turned away briefly, tucking a wild curl behind her ear.

'As you have been made aware,' he began, 'Lady Leliana was the victim of a brutal attack in the early hours of the morning, performed by a rogue apostate. I am sorry to announce that the identity of the attacker was well known to us all here at Skyhold.' He paused, and the people of the Inquisition looked back at him with an apprehensive gaze.

'It was the elven mage, Solas.' Skye flinched at his name, and took a tiny, subtle step back, letting Cullen take the sudden onslaught of whispers and gasps. Everett was still looking at her, and now a scowl rested on his face.

'As of today, Solas is to be recognised as an enemy of the Inquisition, and we will be apprehending him as such,' Cullen continued. 'Report to myself or to Seeker Cassandra if you wish to join the volunteer force that will be assembled to capture him. That will be all.' He turned to Skye, gesturing with an arm. His mouth was set, but his eyes were kind. 'Coming?'

She nodded gratefully, and the two of them walked down the hall. She needed to see Leliana's wounds for herself, but as she walked, whispers filled her ears.

'Wasn't she involved with him? Can we trust her?'

'Would the Inquisitor lose control? She's a mage, too!'

'Makes you wonder about all the knife-ears. They're all the same underneath.' The last was said by a derisive Orlesian, and she felt her cheeks flame. Her ears, too, grew hot at the tips, and she hurried her pace, suddenly eager to get into the open air outside. Could what they thought, what they whispered, be true?

Little things suddenly began to add up. Her explosion of power in the Fade. Her spiral of despair. The exploding drinking glasses. And the Anchor - the searing mark of the Fade, which, now she actually stopped to consider it, had begun to flare more recently than was normal. Another question that she could no longer answer.

Was she going the same way? Was she losing control of her magic?

Someone grabbed her elbow, jolting her out of her reverie. 'Skye.'

She turned her head to see Varric and Sera falling into step beside her. Varric looked sympathetic, and Sera was scowling fiercely at the whispering bodies around them.

'We're taking you to the tavern,' the elf said, and Cullen turned his head.

'You'll stay with her?' he asked. Varric nodded.

'Don't worry about her, Curly. We'll look after her.' Sera nodded enthusiastically as well, and Cullen thought it over for a moment before nodding. He bowed slightly to Skye, and hurried ahead of them, making his way to the infirmary.

Skye stopped, and turned to the dwarf and the elf. She gestured after the blonde soldier. 'I should go and see how Leliana is doing,' she said weakly, and both Varric and Sera seized an arm each.

'You need to come to the tavern, have a few beers, and talk to us,' Sera quipped. 'Don't think about anything but that sweet taste of mead.'

Clearly, she didn't have a choice in the matter.

'Go on then,' Skye surrendered. 'Let's go for a drink.'

The sun shone down on Skyhold, but Cullen could still feel a prickling chill on the back of his neck. It felt like something was stalking him, and he spun round on the spot, abruptly, just in time for Cole to clatter against him.

'Oof!' The boy fell backwards, and Cullen extended a hand to help him up.

'Cole, what are you doing?'

He looked embarrassed. 'I needed to make you see,' he answered, staring at Cullen. 'The Inquisitor is sickening.'

Cullen frowned. 'She'll live, Cole. Leliana's welfare is more important right now.' He turned, intending to continue to the infirmary, but suddenly Cole had moved in front of him.

'She needs us!' His eyes, icy blue, burned into Cullen's, and he took a step back, uncomfortably. 'I saved her from falling, but she wanted to fall forever.'

Cullen stopped dead, and turned to stare at him. 'What?' His voice was low.

Cole shook his head. 'She wanted to fall and I had to save her. There was so much pain!' The mere memory agitated him greatly, and he held his head in his hands. Cullen had not moved, was still watching him with frozen features.

 'Cole,' he said, slowly, almost unwilling to accept what the spirit was trying to tell him, 'What do you mean, 'she wanted to fall'?'

Cole took in a breath. 'I know it hurts,' he said softly, 'But her pain was so strong. She didn't want to hurt anymore.'

Cullen closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as the realisation sunk in. 'Maker preserve us,' he said softly. 'How did we miss this?' Cole reached out, resting a hand on the soldier's shoulder.

'She needs more than just my help, Commander.' Then he seemed to fade, before Cullen's eyes. The soldier shivered. The spirit meant well, he was sure, but it was still more than a little unnerving to see the way he disappeared into the background. He began to hurry towards the infirmary once more. He had to tell the others.

As Cullen arrived, he was pleased to see both Josephine and Cassandra attending the injured spymaster. Although still grievously injured, she seemed to be briefly conscious, and she whispered to Cassandra as he entered the room. He stood for a moment, noting the way that the ambassador held her hand tightly, and tried not to see the tears that had gathered in the Antivan's eyes.

'Seeker,' he said softly. 'I need to speak with you outside.' She nodded, and rested her hand upon Leliana's shoulder for a moment before following him through the door.

'The surgeon came by,' she informed him. 'He does not believe that she will require an operation, of sorts.' Cassandra paused, frowning. 'But there's still no certainty that she will survive. The replacement healers are supposed to be on their way.'

He breathed out in relief. 'That is…good to know.' She studied his face.

'How did the Inquisitor receive the news?'

'Not well,' he answered, and he frowned as he recalled Cole's words. 'Listen, Seek- Cassandra. There's something you need to know.' Cullen paused, watching her reaction closely as he spoke his next words.

'Cole spoke to me,' he confessed. 'He had some…concerns, about Skye.'

'The spirit? What did it want?' The Seeker frowned at his words. Still, she knew as well as anyone that Compassion's concerns were not to be trifled with.

'We failed her,' he said softly, and the pain of what Cole had told him felt like a gentle knife in his heart. 'She tried to jump last night.' He turned away, shamefaced. He had thought she had been recovering from the war. He had thought he had helped her.

Cassandra was stunned. 'Impossible.' But the soldier was resolute, and understanding blossomed within her, only to be consumed by fear. 'Where is she now? Is she safe? Is someone watching her?'

Cullen nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder. 'Varric and Sera took her to the Herald's Rest. She's safe enough for now.'

Cassandra shook her head. 'No. We must talk to her about this, _immediately_. Go, speak with her.' A pause, as she considered her plan. Finally, she nodded, convinced. 'Yes, that will work. She considers you a friend - approach her as such.' She turned, her hand resting on the door to Leliana's quarters. 'Be gentle, Cullen.'


	12. Tavern

They had taken her to the tavern, and now they steered her to a seat on an empty table, in the eaves of the Herald's Rest. Strains of music, calming, serene, floated into the air to meet them, and all around were quiet whispers and subdued conversations. Whilst Skye sat, staring down at her hands, Varric had fetched two tankards of beer, and Sera had darted to her room for the bottle of whisky she had previously 'borrowed' from the kitchens. The three of them sat in silence, Varric and Sera exchanging worried glances. Even in the lowest of her moments, Skye had been known to offer a weak smile, or a gentle explanation.

This sudden quietude was both unusual and unnerving.

Varric opened his mouth, made ready to ask just what was wrong, when suddenly Skye reached for her tankard. She drained half of it in several large gulps, the strange taste slipping down her throat and making her cough. They had never had beer in the clan - at least, none for drinking. Any beer they had made had been traded with the humans for whatever was needed most. The sudden memory made her wince, even as Varric laughed. Sera clapped her on the back, grinning.

'Atta girl, Skye!' he chortled, and, raising his own tankard in response, took a large swig. Sera hadn't even bothered with a glass - she swigged back the whisky straight out of the bottle, grimacing as the fire raced into her stomach. Despite everything that had happened, the face she pulled made Skye laugh, and Sera grinned, happy to have breached the peculiar barrier the Inquisitor had erected about herself.

As they drank, Varric turned a curious eye on the elf. There was a story here, under the surface, and the writer in him was itching to uncover it. 'So, what's the deal here?'

She paused, replacing the tankard on the tabletop. 'What do you mean?' It was fascinating to watch, the Inquisitor turning from light to dark as she did, frowning at him.

'Ah, come on, Rebel.' Varric, too, put down his tankard. 'Yesterday, you're all about saving Chuckles, bringing him back to Skyhold-'

'Then,' Sera butted in, 'Today Blondie is saying he's the one who hurt Leliana, and that there's gonna be a friggin' manhunt for him!' She leant in close, eyes glittering. 'You can't not have a feeling about that, Rebel.'

Skye could feel her magic beginning to simmer, Sera's words cutting to the quick. She clamped down on it hard, regaining control. The last thing she needed was to lose it now.

'I think that there's more to what happened,' she said slowly, picking her words with care. 'And I still think that we need to ask Solas for an explanation.'

Varric leant forward. 'So what are you proposing, then?'

Skye shrugged. 'The advisors clearly want him captured. There's no way I'll be allowed to go after him. Conflict of interest, you see.'

An idea began to form, then, in the darkest corner of her mind, and Sera started at the exact same moment.

She giggled. 'I sense an epic quest being planned, Rebel.' Sera wriggled with pleasure. 'We should sneak away in the middle of the night! I would be there for that, y'know? Or, I dunno, you could use magical elfy powers to find him!' Her enthusiasm was contagious, and both Skye and Varric smiled at her.

All too soon, however, Skye's smile faded. 'I'm the Inquisitor, Sera,' she answered gently. 'I can't just up and vanish from Skyhold - Josephine would have kittens, not to mention have to deal with the fallout from it all. I wouldn't wish that on any one of you.'

Sera shrugged, and slugged back another mouthful of whisky. 'Shame. Would have been fun to show you how to be a proper Jenny.' Her companions looked at her, nonplussed, and she took another drink.

'What? We could be all sneaky and shit. Can't do it here, but…' She trailed off, enticingly, and Skye would have been lying if she had denied the flash of temptation. Again, tantalising freedom seemed to hover just out of her reach. Sera seemed to see her, again, and briefly touched her on the shoulder.

'Another time, Rebel.' She stood, then, and disappeared down the stairs, taking the half empty bottle of whisky with her. As soon as she was out of sight, Skye put her head in her heads, groaning in frustration. Varric watched her curiously.

'Alright, Herald, that's enough. What's really going on in that head of yours?' Skye shook her head.

'If I figure it out, you'll be the first to know, I promise,' she answered dryly, barking out a laugh. 'I just can't quite understand how we've ended up here.'

He nodded, sympathetically. 'I don't think anyone does. And, if you want my opinion, you're not the only one who was sorry to see Chuckles disappear.' He gave a dramatic sigh. 'Poor guy.'

Skye shook her head. 'I just don't understand how he could have lied to us - to all of us - through it all.'

Varric snorted. 'One thing I've learned in the past few years, Rebel, is that deep down, we all have three sides.' She raised a brow at him, and he nodded, chuckling.

'Yeah, you heard me. Three sides.' He began counting on his fingers. 'One; the side we show to people. Two; the side we show ourselves. Three; the side that we don't even let ourselves see - the scary side.' He looked up at her. 'Part of solving the puzzle of a person is figuring out which side they're on.'

Skye smiled, sadly. 'I'm guessing Solas is floating somewhere in the middle?' Varric nodded.

'That's the way I see it, at least.' He took another swig of beer, and Skye watched him, bemused.

'I forget how poetic you can be sometimes, Varric,' she said, and Varric chuckled.

'I might just be a dwarf with a crossbow, Rebel, but I'm a damn fine writer, too.' Skye laughed, in spite of herself, and Varric grinned. They continued to drink, and she had finally finished her tankard when Sera reappeared, with an uncomfortable Cullen in tow.

'He was looking for you downstairs,' she explained, before narrowing her eyes at the Templar. 'Play nice, you.'

Cullen cleared his throat, gesturing to the battlement door with a hand.

'May I speak with you?'

He seemed overly formal, flustered even, and it set off alarm bells in the back of her mind. Skye looked to her companions for permission, hoping, stupidly, that they would ask her to stay. But they didn't, and she stood slowly, accompanying Cullen out of the Herald's Rest and onto the battlements for privacy. The two of them stood there for a while, looking out across the majestic mountain range that surrounded Skyhold. The skies were clear, but sun glinted off the snow that rested upon the stony peaks. As usual, the sight stole her breath away, and she could feel a sense of peace descend upon her.

'It's so beautiful,' Cullen murmured beside her, transfixed. 'I must admit, I am not used to having the time for such things.'

Skye turned around, and leant back against the battlement walls, staring up at the sky.

'What's wrong, Cullen?' she asked, deliberately trying to keep her tone light. He sighed.

'Skye…' He turned to face her, his eyes filling with pity. 'Cole spoke to me.'

Her heart skipped a beat, and she stilled, eyes flicking across Cullen's face, searching his features.

'What did he say?' She couldn't quite keep her voice steady, a tremor threading through her words. Damn.

He took a step towards her, twisting his hands together. 'I think you know.'

Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes and she wiped them away, angrily. Cullen took another step towards her.

'Skye, I - I am so sorry.' He was clearly upset for her, and that was enough to make more tears fall. 'Why?' Cullen was now standing directly in front of her. 'What were you thinking?'

Skye shook her head. 'I don't want to talk about it.' But the memory came back to her, unbidden, the sensation of the night breeze, the deathly drop that had been just within her reach. Cullen read her face, and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sniffled against the fur lining of his uniform. He didn't know what to say. Part of him had hoped that Cole had been lying, or misinformed. But this reaction meant that it had been true. It had been real. She pulled away, and he watched her go back to the view of the mountains.

'I thought that he was the one who saved me,' she admitted quietly. 'I don't know whether to believe Cole or not.' Cullen raised an eyebrow.

'That's a little concerning.'

Skye spun back around to face him. 'But I trust him to know people, Cullen. He would agree that Solas could never have done what you say he did - at least, not intentionally.'

She looked up at him hopefully. 'We shouldn't be hunting for him, we'll never find him like that! We should send some sort of message, make sure he knows that he would be welcome back!'

Cullen was already shaking his head. 'Even if Solas wasn't a mage, an attack of this severity, upon one our own members, would not go unpunished. He has to be brought to justice!' Skye glared at him, and he continued, pushing through. She had to realise this.

'Skye, I am sorry that Solas attacked Leliana. I'm sorry that he might be losing control over himself, over his powers, and I am sorry that he hurt you when he left. But if he is losing control it is kinder, safer, to bring him in and contain him.'

She snorted in disgust, and began to walk away. Cullen's temper rose, and he snapped.

'Mages need to be controlled! You know that!'

Skye spun around, her eyes flashing with fury. 'Actually, I don't. I'm Dalish, _shemlen_. We treated _our_ mages with respect.'

His jaw dropped. How had this turned so sour, so quickly?

'Magic is meant to serve man, and never to rule over him,' she continued, mockingly. 'Your Chantry was so against magic it nearly destroyed the world. Solas doesn't need _containment_ , or _controlling_. He needs help, guidance even. You control someone, you imprison them. Solas must be free.'

Cullen stared at her, before throwing his hands up in despair. 'Fine. Clearly, I can't make you understand.' He glared at Skye. 'Leliana was almost killed outright, and the healers still aren't sure if she'll survive. That is Solas's fault.'

He could feel a headache beginning, and he began to pace. 'Magic may well be part of this world, but I have seen what happens when it is corrupted. You know what I went through, what I saw during the Blight, what I lost my friends to. I know you mean well, Skye, I know that this is a horrible thing to have to learn about someone you once cared for-'

'I still care for him, Cullen,' Skye interrupted. Her eyes were like ice, and Cullen took a step back as he realised her hands were crackling with energy. 'I never stopped caring for him. If you had any idea what that felt like-' She broke off, staring at him with horror.

It felt like she had swung for him. His affections for her were not unknown, and it had been a subject Skye had kindly ignored.

'I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Inquisitor,' Cullen said stiffly, 'I must go and see if the healers have arrived yet.' He gave a curt half-bow before turning and walking away, leaving the angry mage to vent her fury at the sky.

Her magic had drawn a thundercloud to rest above her, and she gave a shout of wordless frustration, releasing a lightning bolt into the valley for good measure. As the magic left, so did her anger, and she turned to see Varric and Sera standing by the door back into the tavern.

'You okay, Rebel?' the dwarf asked, and she shook her head, taking a deep breath and steadying herself on the stone walls.

'I've had enough.'

Sera giggled, her eyes lighting up as she realised what that meant. 'Don't suppose you've thought about that magical idea I had downstairs?' she asked, and Skye nodded. Sera grinned.

'So…when are we leaving then?'

'Tonight,' Skye answered, and her fellow elf clapped her hands together in glee. 'I can't stay in Skyhold another moment - and I can't sit and do nothing whilst they hunt him down. We have to find him first.'

Varric smiled, a twinkle in his eye. 'Sounds like a great story you're brewing up, Rebel.'

Skye grinned. 'If you want in, I'll be leaving tonight. Meet me at the stables by midnight, and pack for a long trip - who knows how long we'll be away?'

She turned back to stare at the mountains, and to her surprise, felt excitement beginning to build in the pit of her stomach, gathering heat like a flame in the hearth. She had her quest - now all she had to do was start it.


	13. Running

 As the day continued, Skye moved discreetly through Skyhold, pausing just a few minutes longer than usual to quietly speak to the cooks, and to the armourer. She was still the Inquisitor, still the most powerful person in the fortress, but Solas's actions had put her at suspicion. It was not her alone, unfortunately; Skye would have borne the brunt of all the barbed remarks, all the vicious glances, if it would have spared the elven servants who now hurried through Skyhold with bent heads and cowering glances.

Still, if it hadn't been for the barefaced servants, her tasks would have been harder to complete. They saw to her needs, fetching and carrying and checking her equipment was intact. Extra potions and poultices, fresh arrows and patched armour - it seemed nothing had been too much to ask of them. Even now, as she arranged her travelling cloak about her shoulders, the worn and faded fabric one of the only remnants she had of her life before the Conclave, a redheaded elf held out a bulging travel bag for her.

'Thank you, Ella,' Skye said gently, taking the satchel and belting it over her shoulder. 'You have been so kind.'

The elf curtsied. 'It has been an honour, Lady Inquisitor.' She left the Inquisitor's chambers, and her footsteps echoed away as Skye returned to her desk, reaching for the letters that lay sealed upon it.

One was addressed to her advisors, apologising for her sudden absence. Skye had invented a problem suffered by the remnants of Clan Lavellan, one that required the presence of its First. Another, this one addressed to Deshanna herself, asking for her advice, her guidance, any knowledge that she might have about the nature of Solas's spell. Deshanna was a talented mage, and a gifted Keeper, and after all that had happened to the clan, Skye suspected that she might appreciate the distraction. The final letter was to one she hated to leave behind.

Cole did not deserve this. Even as she held the letter in her hand, guilt gnawed at her, threatening to burn the parchment in a flare of light. But no; he needed to stay, to help the people here. It would be selfish to ask him to follow her.

The letters were signed, sealed with red wax, and she let two of them fall back onto the desk, tucking the third away in her bag. Her staff leant against the wooden table, and she took it in hand, sparks of magic tracing the length of the lyrium-infused wood as she held it.

She had packed bags, and the servants had taken saddlebags of supplies to the stables. The letters were written, waiting to be read. Her chambers were tidied, swept, and, she realised, sparse. There was nothing of her here, nothing left to remember but the people she loved.

It was time to go. She stole a final glance at the starlit sky, drinking in the view of the mountains that glowed with the light of the moon, surrounding Skyhold and protecting her people.

'Dareth shiral,' she whispered softly, before turning, and slipping away down the steps into the depths of the castle. Soldiers - probably under Cullen's instruction - guarded the entrance to the hall, and Skye padded quietly across the stone floor, pushing open the door that led down to the kitchens. Thankfully, this was unguarded, and, drawing her hood over her head, the elf made her way through the lower passages of the castle, finally emerging at the side door into the courtyard. She could see two small silhouettes huddled outside the stable doors, and as she approached one of them, the taller, sneezed.

'Buttercup, hush it!' a hoarse voice whispered, and Sera snorted angrily in answer.

'Shut it yourself, dumpy.'

Skye approached, pushing back her hood. Varric grinned as he saw her.

'Thought you'd gotten lost,' he whispered hoarsely. 'C'mon. Sera thinks the guard's changing soon, reckons we'll be able to slip past without too much trouble.' The elf nodded.

'Cullen's had them all shuffling around the hall, like sheep. Bit weird, like, y'know?'

Skye shrugged, hiding the flicker of unease. She knew exactly why Cullen had stationed the guards in the hall. 'Let's just get going,' she whispered in reply. 'Do you have your things?'

Varric gestured behind him. 'Already packed the horses. Seriously, Rebel, we were just waiting for you to show up.'

Skye blinked. 'Right.' She moved towards the door, and Varric and Sera showed her to the horse they had saddled for her. It was a dark, quiet mare, one she had only ridden once or twice. Three stalls over, her hart, a gift from a distant Dalish clan, snorted, pawing his hoof along the ground. She looked over sadly.

'Ir abelas, Vhenas,' she whispered. 'But I cannot take you with me this time.'

He seemed to understand, intelligence gleaming in his dark eyes, and she turned back to the mare, strapping her travelling bag to the saddle in a much-practiced motion. Further down the stables, Varric and Sera were leading their horses from the stalls; one, a stout little pony with a star-shaped blaze upon its nose, whickered impatiently as the dwarf led him outside. Behind him, Sera tugged on the reins of her cocoa-coloured beast, huffing impatiently as it planted its hooves, refusing to budge. She cussed at the animal.

'Stupid shitey horse,' Skye heard the elf hiss. 'Stupid boring fat-arse pony!'

She smiled, patting her mare gently on the nose. 'You'll be good, won't you girl?' Skye took the reins in hand, and as Sera finally managed to drag her horse out of the stables, the Inquisitor left the stall with her new companion in tow.

They were almost ready to leave, and Skye was just about to mount her horse when a torch suddenly flared. The dark mare whinnied, stepping away from the light, and Sera drew her bow, pulling an arrow from her quiver and aiming at the dark figure.

'I hope you have a good reason for this.' The guttural accent made Skye smile, but she drew up her hood regardless.

'Cassandra, I can't explain my actions.' She mounted her horse. 'I'm sorry, my friend. But you can't stop me. I'm going to find him.'

The Seeker tsked. 'Did you really think I was going to stop you searching for him?' She leant down and shouldered a satchel of her own, a wicked smile playing about her lips. 'You know how I love happy endings.'

Sera relaxed her bow, groaning, even as Varric snorted. 'Really, Rebel? She's coming too, now?'

Skye nodded. 'We need her, Sera.' She looked at Cassandra. 'You'll need a horse.'

Cassandra nodded. 'Give me ten minutes, and we can still leave before it is light.'

She was less than that, and by the time the sun had begun to rise over the mountaintops, the Inquisitor and her party had vanished into the Frostbacks, unseen by the searching eyes of Skyhold.

Cole had gone to find her as morning came, to find her chambers tidy, but silent. He paused for a moment, before beginning to check he had not simply forgotten to see her - it was as he began to actively search that he found the letters. The spirit picked them up, one by one, before tracing the letters that made up his name with his fingertips. He opened his letter, and read the contents, slowly; reading was still a difficult concept for him. As he finished the letter, his eyes grew wide, and Cole fled to the Ambassador's study. He had arrived within seconds, a blur of action that even Josephine didn't see coming. She jumped as he arrived in front of her, his eyes wild underneath the hat, his pale skin unusually flushed, even for a spirit.

'She's not there, she's not here anymore, she's gone!' Cole thrust the letters towards her, gripping them tightly, and Josephine gently prised the letters from his fist. He relaxed as she opened the letter that had been marked for the advisors, and she frowned as she scanned its contents.

'It says her clan's Keeper was in need of assistance,' she murmured, confused. 'I wasn't aware that Deshanna had survived the attack.'

Cole shook his head. 'The sister saved her,' he explained. 'She wrote words that might come true, but not yet. Her heart says pride, pride, pride.'

Josephine looked up from the letter, her brow furrowing, but Cole had disappeared. Replacing the letter on the desk, she reached for a tiny silver bell that rested on her desk, and shook it lightly. Not a moment later, a diminutive elven servant poked her head around the oaken door.

'Did you ring, my lady?'

Josephine gestured elegantly for the servant to enter, and she did, twisting her hands in front of her. 'Is there any news on Leliana?'

The servant shook her head. 'No, my lady. I'll go and find out now, if you'd like?' Josephine nodded.

'Yes. Do that. Oh-' the servant stopped, one foot already out the door, 'Tell Commander Cullen I'm expecting him in the War Room. There have been…developments.' Josephine returned to perusing the letter that had been left for her, and barely noticed the creak of the door as it swung back on its hinges.

In what felt like just a few short moments, Josephine had been joined in the War Room by a frenzied Cole, and a somber Cullen.

'What on earth is the matter, Josephine?' the soldier said tiredly, his eyes almost closing with a will of their own. 'Unless it's urgent, I was rather hoping to get some sort of sleep.'

The Antivan held out the letter, and he looked at it, eyes widening as he recognised the messy scrawl. 'It's a letter of farewell,' she informed him as he scanned the contents. 'But it's vague - intentionally so, I fear.'

Cullen looked up at her, brow furrowing even as he registered her words. 'So she…just left?'

She nodded, then gestured towards another scrap of paper resting by her on the table. 'It seems she had company. Varric, Sera and Cassandra are missing as well.'

The soldier seemed to sag slightly, closing his eyes and leaning against the oaken slab that served for a table. 'Maker preserve us,' he murmured. 'I should…' He trailed off, and Josephine rested a hand on his arm.

'It will all be alright, Commander,' she said, kindly. 'Perhaps it is just something she needs to work through. She'll be back.'

Cole snickered.

It was an unusual sound for the spirit, foreign in his voice, strange enough that both Cullen and Josephine turned to stare at him.

'Cole?' Josephine asked tentatively. 'What is so funny?'

He shook his head, looking at the floor, suddenly shy. 'She wrote words, wrote them from the heart, but her heart is tired.' A pause. 'It whispers.'

Cullen looked at Josephine, who seemed equally confused. 'Cole,' he began slowly, 'I'm afraid we don't understand.'

Cole stared at him abruptly. 'You're not supposed to. It wasn't meant for you.' The spirit shook his head again. 'It's quiet without her here. No more laughs. No more stories.'

Cullen flushed, and Cole continued, seemingly unaware of the effect his words were having on the soldier.

'Anger and passion, so close, the smell of her hair even as she cried, heart bursting, eyes shining, 'magic must be controlled'-' He broke off abruptly, and seemed to focus on the Commander, who, by now, had turned a delicate shade of red.

'Did you really say that?' The spirit seemed affronted, and Cullen dropped his head, shamefaced.

'I didn't mean to,' he said, quietly. 'It got out of hand.'

Josephine arched her brow. 'What is he talking about, Cullen?'

He shook his head. 'I tried to talk to her about what had happened to Leliana. Where she thought Solas might be hiding. It didn't end very well.'

She pursed her lips, looking at him with pity, and he winced in pain.

'Please excuse me, Josephine. I have a headache beginning.' Cullen bowed to her, a quick dip of his head, and then made his way from the room, one hand reaching up as if to hold his head in place.

The door swung closed behind him, and Cole turned to her. 'She needs me too. It's not fair.' His tone was sorrowful, and Josephine moved around the table towards him.

'It will be alright, Cole,' she reassured him gently. 'I'm sure she'll be back soon.'

' _Ir abelas, vhenan_ ,' he whispered, his gaze vacant as he stared into space. Then, before her eyes, he seemed to melt away, leaving Josie alone in the War Room.


	14. People

The Antivan was still puzzling over the spirit's words when a polite knock sounded from the other side of the War Room doors. 'Enter!' she called, as she rested her hands on the edges of the oaken slab, studying the map in the hope of inspiration. The doors swung open with a soft creak, and Josie looked up to see the surgeon making her way slowly into the cavernous room. She looked about it in awe, and her eyes grew wide as she saw the War Table.

'Lady Montilyet.'

She smiled. 'Surgeon. What brings you to the War Room?'

'I thought you would want to know; Leliana is conscious. She lost a lot of blood, and there will be scars, but I have a good mind she'll recover in time.' The surgeon stood to attention. 'She'll be able to receive visitors, my lady, if you would want to visit.'

A smile spread across the Ambassador's face. 'That is good news indeed. Thank you for bringing this to me.' She gathered the letters in one hand, and gestured elegantly with the other. 'I would see her now, if that is allowed?'

The surgeon nodded, smiling herself. 'Of course, my lady. She'll be asleep, but I'll take you there.'

The two of them moved through Skyhold, and within a few minutes Josephine was once again sitting beside the spymaster. She was heavily bandaged, linen wrappings around what little skin was showing underneath the blankets on the bed, and even as the Antivan watched, the redhead shifted slightly, her peaceful face twitching with pain as she did so. Leliana was sleeping, courtesy of a strong sleeping draught, and the surgeon had gently reminded Josephine not to cause her to stress; 'She needs absolute rest and recuperation before we even consider the rehabilitation process. Do not overstress her.'

The surgeon had been firm, even stern to a point, and as Josephine sat next to the sleeping woman in the bed, she looked at the letters that lay in her lap. Gently, she picked up the one that had been addressed to the advisors, opening the envelope with a finger and delicately pulling out the letter contained within.

_Advisors of the Inquisition,_

_I understand that the hunt for Solas is to go ahead. Although I agree in the quest for answers, I do not believe your method to be correct, and as such I am withdrawing both my support and my participation in this mission. Furthermore, I have been called away on personal business. As you know, my clan was decimated by bandits outside Wycome, with almost no known survivors. It came to my attention some weeks ago that both my Keeper, Deshanna, and my sister, Ath'dhea, managed to survive the attack. They are being sheltered by another clan, a known ally, and have since requested my presence. As both a sister and a First, you must understand the necessity of my abrupt departure. I will send word once I have reached the clan._

_Dareth shiral,_

_Inquisitor Skye Lavellan_

The letter was polite, to the point and sweetly written, Josephine mused, but it lacked a heart that she had come to see in Skye. The elf had wielded kindness with the same ferocity and skill she had wielded magic, letting her passion fuel her; it was almost the mark of her trade. She reread the letter, cogs beginning to turn in her mind, then, replacing it in her lap, picked up the letter that had been addressed to Cole. The envelope was torn almost in two, and the letter within bore similar rips. Evidently, Cole had been upset. Taking care not to tear the parchment, Josephine opened the letter, and read its contents.

_Cole,_

_Ir abelas, my friend. I owe you my life, and it breaks my heart to leave you behind like this. But I am needed elsewhere, just as you are needed here. Leliana will need your words of healing; Cullen will need someone who can understand him. I cannot stay here and watch them plan their hunts; the ones I love need me more than they do._

_Be brave, Cole._

_Skye_

This sounded more like the Skye she knew. Josephine smiled, delighted with the puzzle she had been presented with. Cole's letter was far more personal, and far more cryptic. Perhaps, after all, it was a personal mission for the remnants of her clan; but a small voice in the back of her mind insisted that that was not the truth.

'Good read?' Josephine started, turning her head to see Leliana returning to the waking world. 'Be honest, Josie,' she murmured, 'Do the scars suit me?' Josephine giggled in spite of herself, a small sound, muffled with tears, and reached to hold Leliana's hand tightly with her own.

'My dear, I believe anything would suit you.'

Leliana smiled at that. 'How long have I been here?'

Josephine shook her head. 'Just a few days. Not long at all.' She glanced at the door. 'The surgeon didn't expect you to be awake and talking so soon.'

Leliana closed her eyes, a small frown appearing on her face. 'I remember…' Her voice was a whisper, and Josie noticed her hands clench in pain.

'We'll get the healers in a minute,' she promised.

The Orlesian's eyes opened again. 'No.'

'Leliana?'

The spymaster looked at her, and, releasing her hand from Josephine's, tried slowly to push herself up into a sitting position. She groaned involuntarily, her breath escaping in a sharp hiss of pain as she moved.

'Leliana, you shouldn’t be moving-' Josephine began, and Leliana glared at her.

'I am not some child who has nothing more to do than stay in bed and whine, Josie. Now please, fill me in. What did I miss?'

Josephine opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, sighing. There was no point arguing with her friend; Leliana had the strongest will of anyone she had ever known. In a few brief words, she told her friend of Skye's night-time flight from Skyhold, and showed her the letters that had been left behind. Leliana said little, her sharp eyes reading the letters as Josephine went on to describe Cole's strange words.

'How long have they been gone from the castle?' Leliana asked quietly. The Ambassador dropped her eyes, taking a breath as she gave Leliana more bad news. 'We're not sure. They left at some point in the night; but there's no trace of them in the mountains.'

The spymaster closed her eyes, and there was an almost palpable taste of frustration in the air. 'If I hadn't been here, we might have avoided all this.'

Josephine tutted, scowling at her friend. 'Absolute nonsense, Leliana. Don't even think that for one second!'

There was a knock at the door, then, and the surgeon came through. 'I hope you're not inducing stress, Lady Ambassador,' she said reprovingly, and Leliana smiled as Josephine spluttered indignantly.

In another part of Skyhold, a spirit was watching a soldier. Cole had followed Cullen to his office, and he entered silently, watching as Cullen slumped at his desk, head in his hands. His emotions shimmered around him, and Cole gasped at the intensity of his pain. Cullen glanced up at the noise, and a muffled groan emerged as he saw the spirit. 'Go away, Cole.'

Cole said nothing, did nothing. He stood there, watching, and Cullen stayed in his seat, motionless, for a moment, before once again raising his head to meet Cole's eyes.

'I said, go away.'

'You don't want me to.' It was an instant response, and one that Cullen could not deny. Cole took a step closer, eyes pitying.

'I can help.' He paused as he said it, and in his eyes, Cullen's outline flared with colour, flashes of gold mingling amongst the darker blues and purples of his emotions.

'It wasn't your fault. It was already in her mind; you would not have changed it easily.' Cullen watched him, and the mint-green tint of relief flooded his person. Cole smiled. He was helping.

Cullen opened his mouth, and then closed it. He was hesitating, choosing his words, and now Cole could see uncertainty and doubt flickering about him.

'You know people,' he said finally. 'You…you were close to her.'

He paused, swallowing, and Cole watched him in silence.

'Did I hurt her?'

The spirit took a breath, his pupils dilating as he reached out for the flicker of memory that had knotted Cullen up from the inside out.

'She's on the battlements, and you follow, reaching for the sky. 'It's so beautiful.' You could be a salve on her fractured heart. Perhaps this is what will be….but magic frightens you, magic corrupts, it injures and taints.'

Cullen had paled, and Cole fixated his light blue eyes upon Cullen's browns, his gaze intent, almost frighteningly so. 'You waken in the night, walk the walls to chase away the dreams. They're getting worse. The terror breaks through and scars your words, sending them scalding into her thoughts.'

He took a breath, blinking rapidly as he saw the fear in Cullen's face. The soldier was sweating, frightened at the intensity and the accuracy of the spirit's words. He stood, pushing back his chair and moving to the window. He was shaking slightly, and Cole went to him, reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder.

'She fought because she, too, feels the fear. She knows the ring of truth around your words, but she cannot see it come to pass. She doesn't want to lose control, wants answers to the questions which hound her waking thoughts.' He shook his head. 'She burns too bright. I can't help her as much as I could.'

Cullen snorted. 'That makes two of us.'

It was a bitter night at the base of the mountains, several valleys over. The party had taken great pains to ensure their tracks were lost in the fresh snowfall, and now they huddled under an overhang, a huge rock covered in newly fallen snow that Skye had shored up with a few quick supports of magic. She had created a fire, as well, this with purple flames thanks to her spell, and Sera flinched as she breathed life into the fire.

'Fire s'posed to be red, Rebel,' she complained, even as she moved closer to warm her hands. There was a soft sound of surprise, and Skye smiled as she saw Sera's reaction to the warmth. 'It's actual fire, like!'

Skye nodded. 'That's the point, Sera. It is real fire. I just like the colour.' Her elven friend grinned, and began to rifle around in her saddlebags for her bedroll. Cassandra had already found hers, and reclined a few steps away. Varric was tending to the horses.

They had made good time, she thought, and as she looked at her companions as they moved about the little camp, she felt content, albeit tinged with a painful nostalgia. It had been too long since she had travelled with the clan, lived as a nomad. Her gut twisted as she remembered that that would never happen again.

'Inquisitor.'

Skye blinked, brought back into the moment. Varric was watching her, concerned, and she shook her head, smiling. 'I'm fine.'

He nodded, and gestured to the others. 'So we kind of need to know where we're going. Us outlaws need some sort of direction, you see; I trust we didn't ride all the way through the goddamn mountain range just in the hopes that Chuckles is hiding under a rock somewhere.'

Skye smiled wryly. 'I have a plan, don't worry.'

The three of them watched her expectantly.

'We're going back to Mythal's altar. In the Arbor Wilds.' Sera choked on her waterskin.

'For shite's sake, Quizzy! Why are we going back to a stupid elfy altar to a stupid elfy god?' she spluttered. Varric and Cassandra were similarly confused.

'Skye, the altar of Mythal is a…questionable location, at best,' the human said, her brow furrowed. Skye nodded.

'That's the point. The Inquisition, if they start sending out people to look for us, won't think that the altar is a place they would need to check out urgently. The advisor's don’t even know the location of the altar, either; Morrigan was the one to show me.'

She broke off as a tiny voice pricked the back of her mind. It was a soft chorus of whispers, and although she couldn't quite decipher the words they spoke, the approval radiated from it, sending a warm shiver down her spine.

'Skye!'

The sound of her name drew her back into the present, and she looked to see her friends watching her concernedly. She smiled.

'The voices of the Well approve.'

The mention of the Well sent them into stillness. Cassandra alone had been present when Skye had drunk from the Well, and she alone had seen the toll that the voices had taken on their new host. She frowned, and got up from her position on the ground.

'Are you alright?'

Skye nodded. 'They want us to go to the altar. There's something they want me to see.'

She was utterly certain in her goals, and the others had no choice but to agree uneasily. After a moment, Sera broke the silence.

'Well, if we've got to get there then we'll have to leave early. Anyone for sleep?' She yawned, stretching like a cat. 'Friggin' cold, though. Any chance of a warm up, Quizzy?'

Skye smiled gratefully at her friend, and with a quiet whispered word, the flames suddenly burned with intensity, radiating heat and melting the small heaps of snow that lay near it. The others huddled near it, and their breath steamed in the cold night air. After a few minutes, they were asleep, and she was finally left alone with her thoughts.

She couldn't quite believe she had actually left, had actually fled in the night from Skyhold. Part of her still wasn't sure she would ever return, and even now, the voices of the Well urged her to return to Mythal's altar as fast as she could travel. It was becoming a physical pain, and now that she had openly acknowledged them, the whispers grew greater with each passing moment. She would not be able to sleep tonight.

Skye settled on her bedroll, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them. Closing her eyes, she listened to the Well, allowing herself to truly hear what it seemed to be trying to say. The chorus of whispers began to sing, strange words and harmonies that resonated through her, her magic reacting beneath her skin. What they were saying, she could not tell; but there was a message in the song, and part of her knew it was a message she needed to learn.


	15. Aravas

_Soft music, rousing song. A dance. Fingertips tracing along a face._

_Vhenan_.

Skye opened her eyes. There was something cold on her cheeks, and she reached with a hand, wiping away the tears that had collected there. She couldn't remember the dream; it slipped out of reach, disappearing into the realm of her memory.

It was probably for the best, anyway; dreams were painful enough.

Still, the voices of the Well had abated, for now, and she sat up, slowly. The sun was shining, and the snow around them glinted with the morning light. There came a clank from behind her, and she turned to see Sera and Cassandra packing up camp. Varric was nowhere to be seen.

'Morning, Rebel,' the elf greeted her cheerfully. 'Ready for today?'

She nodded, stretching her arms above her head as she stood. She could feel the tension in her shoulders, and her magic sent a tremor down her spine.

'I need to stretch, Cassandra,' she said softly, and the Seeker stopped to stare at her. She alone knew the magical nature of the exercises Skye had to complete each morning.

'Do you think that is wise in our circumstances?' she asked. Skye nodded.

'If I don't, I might flare out. Sylaise knows how bad that would be.'

The Seeker pursed her lips at the mention of the elven god, but she nodded, and Skye neatly repacked her bag, then turned to scramble away, further down into the valley. The others would bring her things when they joined her at the bottom of the mountain; but for now, it was best that she moved far away. She walked for a few more minutes, until she looked back, and realised that the others had become specks in the snow. That was probably far enough.

Her shoulders and neck were aching with magic, and the voices of the Well seemed to have awoken as well. They chanted in a whisper, and again she had the odd sensation of encouragement radiating through her body. Skye came to halt, and, her arms outstretched, began to spin slowly in a circle, like a compass. Her eyes closed, and she began to whisper under her breath, murmuring the same word over and over again as the air around her began to crackle with energy.

_'Revas.'_

Tiny sparks and bolts of lightning began to dance around her slim form, weaving in and around her fingers and circling her waist. Without warning, she shot her hands suddenly up to the sky, throwing her head back and opening her eyes to see lightning arc into the air. It sprang from her skin, and her skin began to glow; a soft, golden shimmer that she knew covered her from head to toe. She could feel the ambient magic beginning to drain back into the sky, and the aching in her shoulders was subsiding as well.

'Rebel!'

The throaty call burst into her composed mindset, and her hands jerked instinctively, aiming for the stout dwarf who was leading her horse and his down the mountainside. Her magic was out of control, and it aimed for Varric. At least he had good instincts. As she levelled her hands at him, his eyes widened, and he released the horses reins, sending them cantering down the slope towards her. Her magic had already acted, somewhat thankfully, and Skye thanked Andruil for her dwarven friend's reflexes as he dove into a snowdrift.

His coat was smoking, and as her mind cleared and her magic relaxed Skye realised how close a call it had really been.

'Varric!' She ran to him, pulling him out of the snow and dousing his smoking coat. 'I'm so sorry.'

He chuckled, the novelty of the situation getting to him more than the shock of the spell. 'This is so going in the book. I can see my publisher falling all over this story.'

Skye laughed in spite of herself, and as the dwarf dusted himself down, she reclaimed the horses. As she arrived with them both in tow, Cassandra and Sera had joined the dwarf, and peals of laughter echoed about the valley as he related the incident. Cassandra watched her, worried, but a look from Skye and she made no mention of the loss of control.

'We should keep going,' she said instead. 'There's still a week of travelling before we reach the outskirts of the Wilds.'

And so they travelled. A week of snowy hills and mountainous slopes, a week of freezing winds and purple fires. A week of avoiding the Inquisition patrols that had appeared, three days in, crawling atop the mountains like flies. When the bottom of the valleys finally turned to solid, flat plateaus, Sera cheered. Skye had to agree with her; she felt far more comfortable in the woodlands than she did the snowy peaks. In the distance, a thin line of darkness coloured the horizon.

'The Wilds.'

The others sobered at Cassandra's quiet words. Skye nodded.

'Will we reach it today?'

The Seeker shrugged. The sun was already high in the sky, blazing above them with a fierce intensity, and the temperature was rising rapidly; beads of sweat gathered at her brow.

'We might,' she answered easily. 'But if we are to reach the outskirts, we should keep moving.'

Varric raised his hand to shade his face, scanning the land ahead of them. He pointed suddenly.

'You know,' he said, 'There's a village or something over there. Might have food, shelter. We could stay there and search for the Altar tomorrow.'

It seemed a simple plan, and she ached for a bed, but a thread of unease rested in Skye's heart. Regretfully, she shook her head.

'We have no way of knowing the Inquisition haven't contacted the village already. No, we carry on, and camp at the outskirts of the Wilds. Perhaps we'll go on our return.'

The others grumbled, nevertheless, and she shook her head impatiently, pushing her horse forward as she headed for the forest. Behind her, there soon came a steady drum of hoofbeats, and Skye turned her head slightly to see her companions riding alongside her.

The four of them rode, then, in silence, with only the whickering of the horses and the occasional sigh to accompany them. As they rode, the sun returned to its place behind the horizon, and the final hour of their journey was spent underneath the purpling sky, and the emerging stars. With her hand outstretched, Skye drew a thread of power from the magic that lingered around her, and a wreath of purple fire was soon dancing around her fingers, giving just enough light to guide the way.

Finally, the trees of the Arbor Wilds began to grow with closing distance, until they arrived beneath the spreading boughs of the forest. The trees themselves stood almost fifty feet tall, towering above them into the blackness. Skye dismounted, her back aching from the long ride, and she sank gratefully onto the grass, lying on her back and simply being for a moment.

Sera smirked at her. 'Enjoying the grass?' Skye nodded.

'It's been three months since I was out in the field.'

The others, unpacking their mounts, looked at her in surprise.

'Three months? But what about the scouting mission that was sent out a few weeks ago?' Varric asked. 'I could have sworn I saw you go with them.'

Skye sat back up, hugging her knees. 'Nope. I was supposed to go, but one of Josephine's nobles arrived. I had to stay and watch them gawp at my ears.'

Irritability coloured her tone, and she pushed herself to her feet. 'I'm going to look for firewood.'

She disappeared into the shadows of the forest, and her companions exchanged concerned glances.

'Is she okay?' Sera finally asked, breaking the silence. 'She's been weird the whole bloody trip.'

Varric shrugged. 'Beats me if I know. The whole thing with Chuckles really shook her up. Her fight with Curly won't have helped, either.'

Cassandra seemed to perk up. 'Cullen? What happened?'

Sera looked at her in surprise. 'How did you not hear about it? Half of Skyhold heard them going at it.' She giggled. 'If only, right?'

Cassandra's face filled with pity. 'Poor Cullen. That cannot have been easy for him. Especially-' She broke off, and suddenly became very interested in unpacking her saddlebags. The dwarf and the elf turned to her.

'Seeker, what secret you hiding this time?' Varric was curious, and Sera took a step closer, reaching for her bow with one hand.

'Cassandra, you can't be all secretey when we're on a mission. Tell us! Or I shoot an arrow in your arse.'

The Seeker stared at her, silently fuming for a moment. She let out a breath, resolving herself to the others. 'Fine. But I never said a word.'

She sat down, gesturing for the others to join her, all the while deliberating how to tell them what she knew.

'C'mon, Cassie!' Sera burst out impatiently. 'Why all the suspense?'

'Because it is a delicate matter, Sera,' she snapped back. Then she took another breath.

'Something happened, the night Leliana was attacked.'

As Cassandra explained to Sera and Varric how precarious Skye's wellbeing really was, the elf herself listened from the undergrowth. Her arms were full of firewood, but she remained in the shadows, watching the others react to Cassandra's news. Varric was shaking his head.

'That can't be true, Seeker; we would know if she was low enough to jump!'

Sera nodded, agreeing. 'It's a frigging lie, is what it is.' The Seeker turned to her.

'That's why Cullen came to talk to her at all,' Skye heard her say. Her tone was bleak. 'Cole was the one who rescued her, apparently. He told the Commander about it.'

There was a clank, as something hit the ground, and she twisted to see Cassandra beginning to take off her armour. 'I spotted the servants running errands for her the day we left. Why do you think I followed you all to the stables? I was concerned.''

So she was here to babysit. Wonderful. Skye readjusted her grip around the armful of firewood, and pushed forwards through the bracken, walking back into camp. Her companions turned at the noise, and watched her as she approached, surprise and pity mingling in their expressions as they realised who it was.

'I got the firewood,' she said brusquely, avoiding her friends' gazes as she began to make up a fire. Her mana was running a little low, after the constant use of magelight and ethereal fire, but she could remember how to strike a spark, and in just a few short minutes she had made up a roaring flame. It glowed and crackled, the orange tint of the flames giving a burning warmth to all their faces. It lent a kindness that her own purple flames were unable to produce, and as the fire grew she moved back away.

'Skye-' Varric began.

'I'm tired.' She moved across the camp, going to her horse and unsaddling her. 'We should rest. It's still a long trip into the Wilds to the Altar.' There was no room for discussion, and after a moment, the others fell into the same pattern; untacking their horses, and rolling out their sleeping sacks. Skye curled away from the others, and she watched the darkened forest. Somewhere in there, her questions would be answered.

At least, she hoped.


	16. Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has taken ages for a myriad of reasons, and I am so sorry for that! University has suddenly become a lot busier, so updates unfortunately will be slowed.

 

She could not recall falling asleep. Neither could she remember waking. Yet somehow, suddenly, she was in the middle of the forest. She was resting against a fallen log, and a small wreath of purple flames danced about beside her, but she was alone, and unarmed.

There came a soft squeak beside her, and Skye jerked away from the sound. Snuffling in the undergrowth, the small pink nug paused briefly in its ministrations to look at her inquisitively. Nose and ears alike twitched at her, and the nug let out a tiny defiant squeak before it turned away from her, resuming its search for food. She let out her breath, regaining control over her speeding heart, and it was only as she stood up that she heard voices calling her name.

'Inquisitor!'

'Skye!'

'Dammit, where is she?'

The voices were frantic, and she moved towards them, unsteadily. Her hand stung, and she looked down in surprise. The Anchor was bright, almost burning her palm. As she watched, blood dribbled from the scar. She winced in pain as the Anchor flared savagely.

'I'm here!' It was a hoarse cry that tore from her throat, but the others heard her at once. They crashed through the undergrowth, each appearing to her with weapons drawn and ready.

Cassandra reached her first, skidding to a halt in horror as she saw the way Skye clutched at her Fade-marked hand.

'What happened?' she asked in a low, urgent voice, even as Sera and Varric joined her.

'I…I'm not sure,' Skye answered helplessly. 'I woke up here. The Anchor, it's…'

As soon as she mentioned it, the Anchor ceased its machinations. Her hand dimmed, the thin trickle of blood the only evidence that it had flared at all.

Sera took a step back, shaking her head uneasily. 'Have I mentioned how creepy that is?' Varric nudged her.

'Don't be rude, Buttercup.' He looked kindly at Skye, although she could see the worry creased into his skin. 'At least you're safe. Come back to camp and have breakfast, alright?'

He began to lead the way, and Sera followed, the two of them disappearing around the trees. Cassandra was still watching Skye, a slight tightening to her jaw the only indication of her worry.

'Are you alright?' she asked the elf. Skye nodded mutely, not trusting her voice. Something was agitating the Anchor; she could feel it, as could her magic. The ambience in the Arbor Wilds was steeped in elven magic - her very blood seemed to sing, to hum in harmony with it. The voices of the Well, too, whispered the wordless song, deep in her bones.

'There's a lot of magic here,' she managed to say eventually. 'It's…calling to me.'

Cassandra rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. 'Are you in danger again?' she asked. Skye shook her head.

'It's not…evil, Cassandra. It feels…it feels like I've come home.' The words seemed to shape around her as she gave them life, fitting themselves to her form. Bizarrely, she meant what she said. She had been to the Arbor Wilds precisely once before, an experience that she was not likely to forget - but as she stood amongst the trees, Skye could imagine a sense of nostalgia, for this place of beauty she had never once called home.

Cassandra arched her brow, evidently deciding on the sanity of the sleepwalking elf. After a moment, she seemed to give up, and shook her head, yawning.

'Let us return to camp,' she said, tiredly. 'The dwarf was planning on making breakfast for us all, allegedly.' She snorted.

'If he does, it will be a miracle short of Andraste herself.'

It was, indeed, a miracle. Under Varric's surprisingly talented eyes, a portion of the dried rations they had taken from Skyhold seemed to transform into flavoursome, fresh-tasting food. Sera scoffed hers eagerly, even as Cassandra looked suspiciously at the dwarf before taking a bite.

'I don't believe it,' she pronounced, her mouth full of bread. 'You are not a cook.'

Varric snorted. 'I'm not a writer, either, Seeker.' He paused, cocking his head micheviously. 'Oh, wait.'

Sera sniggered as the Nevarran rolled her eyes, and Varric looked over at Skye, eyes twinkling. 'Not hungry, Rebel?'

She had been staring back into the forest, but she started at the nickname. 'Sorry.'

Almost without will, her gaze strayed back to the trees, and she took a deep breath. The magic was calling to her still, and every fibre in her body wanted nothing more than to follow it back to the Altar - for something told her that was the centre of the magic in the grove. As the others ate, slowly, Skye fidgeted in her seat, and little bursts of magic ran up and down her arms in excitement.

At last, her companions packed away their things, and she shot to her feet as they readied their horses. Skye went to her horse, stroking its nose gently, before taking the reins and offering them to Cassandra. The Seeker, astride her own mount, took them with confusion.

'I want to walk,' Skye said. She did not explain herself - how could you explain the need to feel the earth beneath your feet to one who had not spent their life living outdoors? Besides, it had been too long since she had been allowed out of Skyhold's walls; it had been too long since she had felt freedom like this.

Her jaw set, Cassandra began to lead the horses at a walk, Skye wandering along beside them. She had slipped her boots off, as well, tying them to her horse's saddle, and as she dug her toes into the soft dirt, wafts of memory floated to the forefront of her mind. Walking through a forest like this with her family, long ago. Travelling with the aravels of the clan. Standing firm as she learnt how to control her magic, the ground beneath her keeping her connected to the energies of the world.

The four companions wandered the Arbor Wilds in this fashion for several hours, until at last they found the remnants of the camp that had been left behind when Morrigan had taken Skye to the altar. Skye came to a halt, as did her companions, and Cassandra dismounted, stretching her shoulders.

'We'll be safe to leave the horses here,' Skye announced. 'We're in deep enough that they won't be spotted; and I can cast a ward around them to protect them if needs be.'

Varric groaned with relief as he lowered himself off his horse.

'I hate riding, did I mention that?' he said, rubbing the small of his back. His horse whickered, somewhat indignantly, and Varric turned to him, stroking his nose reassuringly.

'Of course I don't hate you, Star,' he crooned. 'You're just a lovely little guy, aren't ya?'

Sera snorted, patting the mane of her steed. 'What a softie,' she commented, and Varric flushed.

'Hey! Horses have feelings too, Buttercup!' he said defiantly. Sera sniggered, before dismounting with a thud. She copied Cassandra, tethering her horse's reins to a low-hanging branch, and strapped her quiver of arrows to her back. Her bow, too, was slung around her shoulder, and Skye watched as she slid a sheathed dagger into a belt-loop.

'Can't hurt to be prepared, right?' Sera said, raising her eyebrow at the Inquisitor. Skye shook her head, silently, and undid the belt buckles which held her own staff in place. It sparked with power as she touched the gnarled wood, and she could feel her magic connecting to the lyrium that was threaded through the staff. Gently, she tapped it to the ground, and a ribbon of power threaded around the clustered horses. The others would be unable to see it, of course, but to Skye it was as if a rainbow shimmered around them. They would be safe enough.

Once all four of them were ready, Skye led the way to the Altar. She remembered the route perfectly - or perhaps the Voices of the Well remembered for her - and in what seemed like no time at all they had reached a beautiful waterfall. It was small, but powerful, and as the water carved its way through lichen-covered rocks and boulders, Skye stepped into the rippling pond at its feet. The others stopped as she submerged her toes in the cool water.

'Um,' Sera said, confused, 'I don't really think we've got time for swimming, Quizzy.'

Skye turned her head, smiling reassuringly at her. She gestured to the waterfall with a hand. 'We have to go through, Sera.'

' _What?'_ It was an explosion of outrage from the elf, and Skye hid a smile behind her hand as Sera cursed under her breath. 'If I'd known I'd have to walk through a frigging waterfall, get all wet and slimy, should have brought a cloak…' She trailed off, and Cassandra barked out a laugh.

'A little water will not bring about the end of the world, Sera,' she chuckled. 'Perhaps even a little soap from time to time would do you good.'

Sera's mouth fell open in a pink 'o' of outrage, and she reached for her bow. 'Say that again, and I'll tell everyone what I saw you doing in the tavern last week.'

Cassandra flushed, but before she could draw her sword Skye slammed her staff against the bottom of the pool, sparks flying. Her companions looked at her, and as they saw the frustration in her face their tempers abated.

'We don't have time for this,' she said, exasperated. The Voices of the Well were practically shouting in her head, and the pain of their voices was growing. 'We need to get to the Altar. _Now_.'

Sera and Cassandra glanced at each other ashamedly. 'Sorry,' Sera mumbled. Skye nodded, acknowledging the apology, then turned and continued to wade through the water. After a moment, the others followed, and Skye summoned a barrier to keep the worst of the water away as they passed through beyond the waterfall. A natural cave behind it led into a fashioned passage, and veilfire burned a sickly green in braziers spaced along the tunnel. Cassandra shivered a little at the light. To one who was not a mage, Skye supposed, the Fade-light might indeed feel unwelcoming. But to her it seemed warm, a comfort almost, and she led the four along the tunnel with confidence. Her heart began to beat a little faster at the thought of what she might find at the Altar. Perhaps Mythal herself, with the answers she so desperately needed. Perhaps a clue, or a letter, that would lead her to the next part of her quest. Excitement thrilled through her as she let herself imagine, for one hopeful moment, that it would be Solas, waiting for her, ready with the truth about what had happened, ready with answers for her questions.

They emerged out of the tunnel a few minutes later, and Cassandra came to an abrupt halt, shaking her head.

'There's a buzzing,' she said, groaning slightly. 'Something's different here.'

Skye could feel it, too. The Voices had grown stronger, and she swayed a little, caught in the rhythm of their cadence. 'There's strong magic here,' she answered. 'I can feel it.'

Sera rolled her eyes. 'Have I ever mentioned how great it is when there's loads of magic around?' Her voice was sarcastic, and it bit at the edges of Skye's mind.

'I mean,' she continued, 'Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you like being able to zap people, but by all accounts Redcliffe was friggin' peachy! All that magic was really great.'

Skye frowned at her, but she could sense the others shifting uncomfortably. None of them had been with her and Dorian as they travelled forwards in time; but Skye remembered the dulled red eyes, the monotonous voices, the red crystals that grew from her friends, and she shivered. Sera was right. They needed to be prepared for anything.

'Inquisitor.'

Skye turned her head towards Cassandra, who had raised her arm, pointing at something. 'There's something there.' She followed Cassandra's extended, and saw with delight the ivy-covered marble wall that marked the Altar, only a few hundred yards away. It blended somehow into the foliage, and even as she watched, a large stag appeared from the gilded entrance. His antlers were enormous, and they seemed to gleam with whatever magic was at work within the Wilds. Skye took a step towards him, her lips parting in wonder, and the stag seemed to stare back at her.

'Wow,' Varric said softly, following her gaze. 'That's a hell of a beast.'

The stag was still staring at her, and as she watched, it inclined its head, seemingly towards her, before turning and vanishing into the forest. Skye began to move towards the Altar as it did so.

'Let's go and see what answers the Voices want me to find,' she said, determination in her tone.

The others followed her lead, and though she only gripped her staff lightly, Skye could hear the soft snick of steel as Cassandra drew her sword, and the tightening of a bowstring as Sera drew an arrow from her quiver, and the click of gears as Bianca was assembled behind her. They walked with purpose, and Skye paused just before entering the clearing of the Altar.

'Be careful in there,' she warned. 'Try not to damage anything.' Her friends nodded, and slowly she led them into the Altar of Mythal.

Varric and Sera had not seen the interior of the Altar before, and they gasped with awe at the beauty of the circle. It had not been something Skye had had time to appreciate before, given that she had had to fight and subdue the dragon, but as they walked towards the altar she, too, could feel a sense of wonder at the untouched beauty of this place. Green grass grew boldly, uncut and unchallenged, tiny flowers of pink and purple and white glittering like jewels amongst the blades of green. Ivy clung to the walls of the altar, and beautiful bright birds nested in the trees whose branches hung over the grove. By the altar, however, stood a figure clothed all in black, their pale skin standing out starkly.

Skye stopped in surprise. 'Morrigan?'

The witch smiled at her, without malice. 'Inquisitor. I was wondering when the Voices of the Well would drive you back here.'

Cassandra readied her sword, glaring at Morrigan. 'We should not trust the Witch.' Her voice was a hiss, but Skye raised a hand in placation.

'What do you know about the Voices of the Well?' How could Morrigan know that the Voices had become stronger? She had told no one about the growing chorus in her mind, had not mentioned the ceaseless whispers to the others since they had left Skyhold, but the witch smirked.

'I had studied the Vir'abelasan far more extensively than you, Inquisitor,' she called across the clearing. 'I know all about the Voices of the Well.'

Skye gritted her teeth; she had known Morrigan's wrath when she had been denied the knowledge of the Well, but it had never been a decision she regretted. It was her culture, her people that would benefit from the Well. It was not something she would had relinquished willingly to a shem without a fight. But if she was right about the voices…

'What does she mean, the Voices of the Well drove you here?' Cassandra asked behind her. Skye shook her head.

'Nothing, Cassandra,' she said quickly. 'She's twisting her words.'

Morrigan laughed drily. 'Forgive me, my dear. I mean you no harm, I can assure you.' She beckoned Skye forward, and the elf moved towards her cautiously.

'I have to admit,' the witch continued, 'I'm impressed by how long you held out against the Voices. Eight months, by my count.' She certainly sounded impressed, and Skye narrowed her eyes, in no mood for barbed words.

'What are you doing here, Morrigan?'

The witch's eyes softened, and she turned to reveal a long, low stone table. It had not been here on Skye's previous visit, and she moved to stand beside Morrigan, confused.

'What-?'

Morrigan passed her hand over the top of the table, and it shimmered. It was not a table, after all, but a sarcophagus. Skye recoiled as she saw the inert body that lay contained within.

'Is that… _Mythal_?'

Morrigan nodded, and although she could have been imagining it, Skye saw her eyes shine with a glimmer of unshed tears. 'I fear my mother is finally at peace.'

Skye took a step back, her mind roiling with emotion. Sorrow at Mythal's passing was at the forefront of her mind, and the Voices of the Well once again began their song; a song which she now realised was one of grief. She closed her eyes, listening to their sorrow, and memories that were not her own flitted behind her eyelids, threatening to bring her to her knees as she relived Mythal at the height of her power, at the height of Elvhenan's glory. There was guilt, too; Skye's more practical side had been counting on Mythal for help in finding Solas, and she felt ashamed seeing the grieving Morrigan beside her.

'I'm so sorry, Morrigan,' she said softly. The human shook her head. 'She was a terrible mother, really. But even so, a loss is still a loss.' She looked at the Inquisitor. 'What did you want from her, then?'

Skye stepped away from her. 'Answers.'

Cassandra cleared her throat from behind them, and Morrigan turned to face her.

'There was an incident at Skyhold some days past,' the Seeker explained. 'Our spymaster was attacked by an unknown spell. The perpetrator escaped before we could apprehend him.'

'Him?' Morrigan's eyes lit up at the word. 'You know who it was?' She looked at Skye.

'Who was it, Inquisitor?'

She could feel the tips of her ears growing warm with shame. 'Solas.'

Morrigan laughed.

They all stared.

It wasn't the reaction any of them had been expecting, it seemed. The witch regained herself a moment later, and looked at Skye, her eyes bright with mirth.

'Forgive me, Inquisitor. 'Tis not the name I was waiting to hear.' She tilted her head slightly, her amber eyes narrowing slightly at the elf. 'Although my mother has passed, I may yet be of use to you.' She paused a moment. 'I have seen the apostate in recent days.'

What?

Skye did a double take. So, too, did her companions. They stared at the witch, who looked positively bored, as if she wasn't aware of the news she had just announced.

'You saw him?' It was a whisper from the dark haired elf, as her heart began to thump.

Morrigan nodded. 'Yes.' She gestured vaguely with a hand. 'He seemed to want to pay his respects to Mother. How he heard of her passing, I know not.'

Behind her, all three of Skye's companions readied their weapons, aiming silently at the witch.

'You _will_ tell us anything you learnt from him,' Cassandra growled. Morrigan turned, arching her brow as she saw the threat.

'Perhaps.' She was unconcerned, and with a wave of her hand, bright blue flames burst into life around her clenched fingers.

Skye widened her stance instantly. A thought, and streaks of lightning wreathed her staff. A quiet word, and thunder rolled overhead. Power, like none she had ever felt before, flowed through her. It was something about this place, she realised, and at the same moment Morrigan caught her eye. She seemed to understand, and relaxed.

'I shall bargain. Information for information, is that not fair?'

Skye lowered her staff, reluctantly. 'What do you want? The power of the Well? You know that won't be possible.'

Morrigan shook her head. 'No. Bring me my son.'

'Your son?' Skye blinked, confused. 'What are you talking about?'

Morrigan sighed. 'He's been under Alistair's protection, living in Redcliffe. The reasons for our separation are precarious, and not for your ears, but should you bring him back to me - _unharmed_ \- I will gladly share what knowledge I possess.'

Sera snorted. 'We're not that stupid.' She began to turn. 'We're not doing anything for the witchy witch, are we, Quizzy?'

Skye hadn't moved. She was still watching Morrigan carefully, and though the witch's amber eyes seemed at first full of smooth and haughty confidence, she saw a crack in them as easily as if she saw the cracks in her own. It seemed that the witch was frightened after all.

'Give us a minute,' she told Morrigan quietly, and drew her friends away from the Altar. The Voices seemed to sigh as she did so, and the queerest ache began around her heart.

Varric was watching her. 'Alright, Rebel?' She nodded, absently, still listening to the voices in her head, and Sera lost her patience. Swiftly, she slung her bow at the Inquisitor, jabbing her fiercely in the ribs.

'No effin' way we're helping the witch, _right_?' she said fiercely, eyes sparking with fear. 'She gives me the creeps. I don't like it.'

Cassandra, too, was frowning in thought. 'I'm not sure we can trust her,' she admitted finally. 'It's worrying.'

Skye shook her head, her heart already set. 'We can't not follow this lead. She saw him!'

If the others heard her exasperation, they made no mention of it, but simply exchanged glances. Skye caught the pity in their eyes and stamped her foot.

'Look,' she said in a low voice, anger beginning to creep into the edges of her mind, 'Regardless of my feelings for Solas, Morrigan has credible information. And she was more than forthcoming with us when she advised the Inquisition.' She looked at each of them in turn. 'You know what you signed up for when you agreed to join me. This is my choice, my quest. Are you in? Or do you want to go back to Skyhold?'

There was a heartbeat of silence, in which Skye felt dread grasping at her insides.

Then Varric sighed, and nodded. Sera and Cassandra followed suit.

'You're right,' the Seeker said. 'You are leading us. This is your quest.'

Skye nodded, satisfied, and left the others to wait where they stood as she returned to Morrigan. The witch had clearly been watching, and listening, and Skye saw a strange vulnerability in her face that unnerved her.

'I'll make this bargain, Morrigan,' she said as she reached her side. The witch seemed to sag a little in relief.

'Thank you.' Her voice was soft, and Skye rested a gentle hand briefly on her shoulder.

'We'll be back with news as soon as we can.' Morrigan nodded.

'I shall return here in three weeks' time. If you have not returned or left a missive by then, I will assume you have failed.' Her tone left no room for doubt; Skye had one shot at gaining the much-needed information.

She led the others from the Altar a few minutes later, and they began to hurry back to their horses. It was a long ride to Redcliffe.


	17. Progress

As they returned through the waterfall, a warm breeze rippled the leaves on the trees surrounding them. Skye strode ahead, wading through the pool and clambering back onto solid ground before turning and offering Varric a hand out of the water. He took it gratefully, his clothes sodden and dripping, and moved away to begin searching the undergrowth for bracken and branches.

‘There’s no need for a fire, Varric,’ Skye said, smiling as she realised what he was doing. The others had joined them on the bank, and Skye stamped her staff against the earth, willing her magic to form a bubble around them. Once the shimmering energy had surrounded them, she let it smoulder, until it grew warm and comfortable within.

They stood like this for some time whilst their clothes and armour dried, Sera shivering and sneezing in turn. ‘Don’t tell me you’re seriously gonna help the witch, Rebel,’ she said accusingly, unslinging her bow and checking the wood for water damage. ‘She’s dangerous. And Redcliffe? That’s, what, two weeks away at best! I thought we’d be back at Skyhold by then!’

Skye frowned. ‘You knew what you volunteered for, Sera. If you want to go back there’s nothing stopping you.’

The two elves stared at each other, before Sera finally sighed in disgust. ‘Fine. Whatever.’ She turned and stormed away from the group, the bubble of magic bursting as she passed through. Varric sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘I’ll go check on her.’ He too turned away, leaving just Cassandra waiting with her by the river bank.

‘I agree with Sera.’

Cassandra had never been one to mince her words.

‘Morrigan is an apostate, and Redcliffe is almost two weeks away on horseback. All of this for information?’

‘If it’s about Solas, then yes,’ Skye answered. ‘We need to know for Leliana’s sake, as well as mine, what happened to him and what that spell was. And what about Kieran?’

Cassandra frowned. ‘What about the boy?’

‘If Kieran is in Redcliffe,’ Skye explained, ‘Then there’s a high chance King Alistair will have placed him there. If Alistair has custody of his son, then that means he will have met with Morrigan. If Leliana or Josephine don’t already know this, then they will soon – and I wouldn’t put it past either of them to interrogate a child. And what if Kieran can’t cope? What if he tells them where his mother is? They’ll send a force to apprehend Morrigan – it’ll either end with a hell of a lot of people dying, or our only source of information dying.’

She was determined, and Cassandra watched her a moment longer before surrendering with a nod, sighing. ‘Very well. Might I suggest we send a raven to Redcliffe to inform them of our pending arrival?’

Skye nodded. ‘I’ll need to amend a letter of my own tonight. Varric,’ she called to the dwarf, ‘You remember the village we saw yesterday?’

Varric had been standing with Sera by the horses, but at Skye’s shout he looked over. ‘Sure!’ he answered. ‘Didn’t look too far from our camp last night.’

Cassandra nodded. ‘Then we have a plan and a destination. Let us head to the village tonight, and move on to Redcliffe in the morning.’ She moved away from Skye, heading for her horse and untying the reins from the branch. As she mounted, hauling herself into the saddle, she patted the neck of her mount tenderly.

‘Come along, then,’ she called over to the Inquisitor, who had not moved from her position on the bank. ‘We have a lot of ground to cover.’

Sera and Varric followed her lead, mounting their horses and checking they had everything they needed before leaving the Wilds.

‘Skye?’ Varric could see the elf still standing. ‘We gotta move out.’

She knew that. This was her quest, after all; she should have been the first on horseback, leading the charge. But something about the warmth and the welcome of the Wilds, the sheer amount of magic that lay, like honey on a tongue, upon the humid air, made her pause for just another moment longer.

Someday, she decided, she would return for a little longer than a day.

Her horse whinnied, startling her from her reverie, and Skye hurried without another glance to join the others.

The village Varric had seen the previous day turned out to be a misleading distance; it was another half day’s ride away from the Wilds, and Sera was angrily calling Varric every name she could think of by the time they arrived.

‘That’s the last time you ever pick where we’re going, shorty,’ she stuttered as the party came to a halt. Varric laughed.

‘Shorty? Really? You ran out of names?’

Sera huffed, dismounting to the ground with a thud. ‘For now… _shorty_.’

The so-called ‘village’ was little more than a small collection of cottages, a rundown tavern, and a crumbling rookery that held only a few mottled ravens. Skye walked through the village with her hood down – she could not recall visiting the village before, and the number of inhabitants was so few that it was unlikely they knew or cared who she was.

An old man, his back hunched, was tending to a raven outside the rookery, and as Skye approached he tried to straighten up, his face wrinkling into a smile as he noted the quality of their cloaks and their weapons.

‘Two golds if you’re going as far as Denerim,’ he croaked. ‘Past the Waking Sea and it doubles.’ The raven, like its’ master, was old and grey, and pecked at his sleeve impatiently, cawing for corn. The man tsked, and withdrew an ear of corn from his pocket, throwing it at the bird. The raven caught it, and hopped to perch on his shoulder, picking at the corn it held in one of his claws.

Skye rolled her eyes at the steep prices. It was an absurd amount; but, she supposed, it was a tiny village with little means of trade – and she was the Inquisitor. It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it. Rifling in the money-pouch that rested on her belt, the old man’s eyes grew wide as Skye withdrew a handful of gold pieces.

She proffered it to him, but as the man reached eagerly for the money she closed her palm.

‘Two ravens, your fastest, and with the utmost discretion,’ she stated. The man nodded, and Skye poured the gold into his dirty palm. He clutched it greedily, and moved inside, a sharp jerk of his head the only indicator they should follow.

The interior of the rookery was dim, and a strong smell of droppings wafted towards the party as they entered. Sera immediately covered her nose, wincing, as did Varric.

‘There’s a desk in the back,’ the man grunted as he moved towards his ravens. ‘Paper and ink and whatnot’s there too.’ Skye nodded, and she and Cassandra headed for the table. Whilst Cassandra wrote a private letter to King Alistair, informing him of their impending visit to Redcliffe and asking for his attendance, Skye amended the letter she had written to Clan Lavellan, asking them to send their reply to Castle Redcliffe.

Once the letters had been finished and sealed, Skye brought them to the raven-master. He had two ravens perched on one arm; dark, glossy feathers and a purple ribbon around their claws marked them as his best and fastest birds.

‘They’ll arrive within two days, have no fear,’ the man said hoarsely as he attached the letters. The birds were obedient under his surprisingly gentle touch, and as he took them to the window they readied their wings. A thrust of his arm, and the birds were away, wheeling around the darkening sky before departing to the north.

‘Thank you,’ Skye said to him. Behind her came a rumble, and Sera sniggered as Cassandra’s cheeks flamed red.

‘I can’t help it,’ she said defensively, ‘If I get hungry from time to time.’

Skye couldn’t hide her smile, and she turned back to the raven-master. ‘I saw a tavern outside,’ she said. ‘Is it open?’

The raven-master bobbed his head. ‘They’ll do you a hot meal and a pint of summat,’ he answered. ‘No rooms for the night to speak of – none that would be acceptable to sleep in, Inquisitor.’

His knowledge of her title made Skye uneasy, and Cassandra swiftly drew her sword, pointing it at the raven-master’s throat. ‘How do you know who she is? Who are you?’

The old man let out a wheezing, hoarse laugh. ‘Seeker, the surest way to tell is gold.’ He held up one of the gold pieces Skye had given him. ‘Orlesian gold in Ferelden, see?’

Sure enough, there was a silhouette of a slender-necked woman imprinted into the coin, a high ruffle surrounding her features, and Skye scowled in irritation.

Empress Celene.

The old man seemed to sense her distress, and handed back the coin. ‘Not to worry, your Worship. If you’ve gone your own way for a reason I won’t pass it on.’ Skye smiled wanly, relief in her eyes, and with another nod of thanks the party left the man with his ravens.

The tavern was rundown and tattered, a dingy space with a feeble fire to light it. The serving woman was a sour thing, as was the beer, but the food was surprisingly hot and filling. With a full stomach, Cassandra was happier, too; and as the four of them returned to their horses and left the tiny village behind, her friends seemed in good spirits.

They did not seem to notice her subdued silence, or if they did they did not comment on it. Varric, instead, took the days of riding to tell his stories, both old and new. Cassandra, as ever, was hooked, eagerly anticipating every cliffhanger and heartbreak in the tales. Each time someone seemed fated to die, she seemed to swoon, and it was only after she very nearly fell off her horse in surprise did Varric cut down on the shocking plotlines.

They travelled this way for several days, through scorching heat and desolate rain alike. Skye rarely spoke, only interacting with the others to check their course on the map. More often than not, she lagged behind, occasionally checking for signs that the Inquisition soldiers were not following. The others left her alone, wary of her brooding.

When they camped, she slept poorly, her attempts at moulding the Fade, her attempts to find _him_ ending only in failure. Her magical connection to the Fade was in no way skilled, and it had only ever been with a guiding hand that she had had success. The attempts were in vain, and ended with Skye waking in frustration. It hung like a cloud over her all the next day.

As the sun set on another endless day, Cassandra had pulled out the map to align herself with the stars. Frowning, she tapped the parchment with a finger, before giving a satisfied sigh.

‘We are two days from Redcliffe, Inquisitor,’ she pronounced, startling Skye from her reverie. ‘If the Maker wills it, we might even reach the castle earlier than that.’

‘That assumes we actually get some shuteye tonight,’ Varric yawned, reclining on his bedroll. ‘Anyone else think that might be a good idea?’

Sera, eyes closed, briefly shot a fist into the air, before curling into a ball on her side.

Cassandra nodded, rolling up the map, and before long Skye’s three companions were sleeping beneath the open sky. The Inquisitor, as ever, remained awake until she could no longer fight the demands of sleep. It wasn’t until the stars began to disappear that she finally succumbed.

 

* * *

 

It had been over two weeks since the Inquisitor had disappeared in the night, and Cullen was growing frantic. For the time being, Josephine had successfully played the story that had been left for the advisors, but with each passing day Cullen believed it less and less.

‘She would have sent a raven by now, Josephine,’ he insisted, pacing by her fireplace. Another patrol had arrived an hour earlier, exhausted from scouring the mountain passes that surrounded Skyhold, and now only one patrol remained in search of her. ‘I’m telling you, she’s gone after _him_.’

The mere mention of Solas made his lip curl. The apostate had caused nothing but grief and heartache to Skye, and nothing but pain and destruction to the people Cullen had pledged to protect. He stopped his pacing, and leaned his hand against the mantelpiece, staring into the burning logs.

‘Cullen.’ With a sigh, Josephine got up from behind her desk, and moved to his side. Gently, she touched him on the arm. ‘We have to trust that she knows what she is doing. If people learned that she was missing, we would have turmoil throughout the ranks. And the Maker alone knows what our allies would think if they realised. She is a figurehead to them; not a person.’

Her expression turned serious. ‘The Inquisitor is dealing with an emergency in the Free Marches regarding her clan. That is the real story, as far as I am concerned. We cannot afford any fragility, not with Leliana recuperating and with Corypheus just dead.’

Cullen tsked, turning away from the Antivan. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘She could disappear,’ he whispered eventually. ‘She could vanish into Thedas and we would never know what happened to her.’ He whirled back to face her, desperation stamped across his face.

‘I want to search for her myself, Josephine,’ he continued. ‘I’ll take two men with me, for protection, but no more than that. Smaller numbers will cover more ground more easily.’

Josephine looked at him, agape.

‘Do you mean to tell me I will be running Skyhold _by myself_?’ she snapped, her voice rising to a shout. ‘No. No, absolutely not. Cullen, I cannot run an Inquisition, sovereign alliances, and a _castle_ alone.’

He took a step towards her, resting his hands on her shoulders. Josephine looked up at him, her normal composure replaced by stress and worry. ‘If I don’t try my hand, Josie, I will never forgive myself.’

‘Your heart is glowing.’

Cullen dropped his hands to his sword, beginning to draw it from its scabbard as Cole, his wide-brimmed hat hanging low over his eyes, emerged from the shadows. ‘Sorry.’

‘Cole!’ Josephine gasped, chiding. ‘What have I told you about _knocking_ first?’

The boy looked at the soldier. ‘Warm faces, close, heart hammering. You needed her and she needed you.’ His blue eyes seemed to burn. ‘I want to help. I want to go, too.’

There was a singular moment between the two, a physical pause in the passage of time, as Cole studied the weary Commander. His eyes missed nothing, and his heart ached with the weight of Cullen’s pain.

Josephine looked between them, and eventually threw up her hands in exasperation.

‘Clearly there is nothing I can say or do to make you change your minds,’ she huffed. ‘Consider your expedition agreed upon.’ She turned, returning to sit at her desk, the movement a clear dismissal. Cole moved towards the door, turning the latch and pulling it open for Cullen to walk through.

‘Cullen,’ Josephine said sharply. He turned in the doorway. ‘You have two weeks. Regardless of what you find, you return to Skyhold before any further action is taken. Is that clear?’

He nodded.

‘Our resources must be devoted to finishing off the remnants of Corypheus’s army, and what remains of the Venatori cultists. Those are our primary directives, before the location of the Inquisitor _or_ Solas. Is that understood?’

Cullen nodded again, and she nodded once at him before returning to her quill and ink, and the looming pile of parchment that sat before her. He continued into the hall, and Cole let the door swing quietly closed behind him as he followed Cullen in the direction of the stables.

‘She cares about all of us, wants us all home,’ he murmured. Cullen looked at him as they walked. ‘Safe, sound, sleeping. Like a mother.’

He gasped, a distressing noise. ‘Head in her hands, tears in her eyes. Friends gone or dying, and now she bears the burden of us all.’

Guilt crept across Cullen’s heart. He needed to find Skye, for her sake and his, if only to apologise for his remarks, but Cole was right. Josephine would be forced to bear the immense burden of them all. ‘Cole,’ he said quietly, ‘Do you think I should stay?’

‘No.’ That pulled Cullen up short, and he turned fully to the boy. He was staring at the ground, shaking his head. ‘You have an old pain. It hurts more.’ He looked up at Cullen, his pale features set in determination. ‘Can I have a horse?’

Cullen nodded. ‘Yes, you may. I’ll meet you by the stables in twenty minutes.’ He looked towards the craggy mountain peaks. ‘And then we’ll be on our way.’


	18. Redcliffe

_Murmurs, music, dancing. The Dalish Joy._

_Vhenan._

There was water on her face, for once not some remnant of a dream, and as Skye sat up sleepily thunder rumbled overhead. Cassandra was organising the breaking of the camp, and she looked over at Skye, concerned.

‘Inquisitor. How are you feeling today?’

Skye shrugged, stifling a yawn. ‘Better. I find sleep helps.’

Cassandra snorted, a wry smile appearing on her lips. ‘It has the tendency to do that, you know.’ She continued to pack, and Skye quickly organised her things, ready to continue with the day’s journey. Sera and Varric were already dismantling the camp, and it seemed to her that no time had passed before the four of them were ready to ride on.

This time, Skye took point, and began to ride with a hard determination. Caught out by her sudden energy, her companions urged their mounts to keep up, and it was only a few hours later that the group passed by a flag declaring their approach to the Hinterlands. Skye slowed to a walk, a smile appearing on her face.

‘Nearly there!’ she crowed, and Sera whooped behind her.

‘About time, Rebel! My arse is getting sore!’

Skye twisted in her seat, and grinned to see Sera slipping her feet from the stirrups and curling to make herself stand in the saddle. Her horse whinnied uncertainly beneath her, and Sera tutted.

‘Now now, Red, behave!’

The horse quieted, and the party continued on their way to Redcliffe.

It took just under another day to reach the outskirts of Redcliffe. As they passed through the Hinterlands, they passed various landmarks. Skye was pleased to see Dennett’s old farm, and although the horsemaster was back in Skyhold she recognised his daughter tending what horses he had left behind. She wanted to wave, to call out, but all too quickly she remembered the secretive nature of their mission.

Ugh.

Skye twisted in her saddle to look at Cassandra. ‘Put up your hood,’ she instructed in a low voice. ‘You too, Varric.’ Sera frowned.

‘Why not us?’

Skye smiled grimly. ‘Two barefaced knife-ears? Our masters need discretion, but no one will care about sullen elves.’

Sera’s eyes lit up as she understood the plan, but tilted her head. ‘What about our weapons?’

Skye frowned. ‘I hadn’t considered that.’

Cassandra cleared her throat. ‘You will have to give them to us – for now, at least.’

As expected, Sera did not take this well.

They argued for another twenty minutes about the handing over of weapons, Sera blatantly refusing to give up her precious bow until Varric threatened to carve up her horse for dinner. At that, Sera shut up abruptly, and tossed the bow at the dwarf before leaning forward to whisper comforts into her steed’s ear.

As Cassandra and Varric rode ahead, Sera and Skye dropped behind, pulling on their mounts to keep them in check. The four of them rode in silence until they reached Redcliffe, through several miles of beautiful woodlands and sweet callings of the birds. In the distance, Skye could see the stone walls that built Redcliffe Castle, and her pulse quickened. Finally, she could get somewhere with her quest.

There were no guards at the gate that led into the village, and Cassandra pulled up her horse as they approached. Skye could see the line of tension in her shoulders, beneath her armour, and she stilled, stretching out her magic to see what she could sense.

There came a rustle from just beyond the gate, and Cassandra drew her sword as a hooded figure seemed to emerge from the growing twilight.

‘Who are you?’ Cassandra barked. ‘What do you want?’

The figure pushed down their hood, revealing a stocky man with reddish hair and sticking out ears. ‘I wish to speak to the Inquisitor, Lady Cassandra.’ He stepped to one side, directly into Skye’s line of sight, and bowed to her. ‘I have waited for you for some time.’

Skye looked at her companions. Each of them looked as nonplussed as she felt, and she rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. ‘Speak quickly, then. I don’t have much time.’

The man nodded, inclining his head once more. ‘I am Connor Guerrin, nephew of Arl Teagan. We received your missive a few days ago, Inquisitor. I have waited for you since.’

Varric stirred uneasily at the name, and Connor looked at him, his gaze sharpening. ‘You have heard, then.’ It wasn’t a statement, and Varric shrugged.

‘I’m a storyteller by trade. I hear all kinds of shit. The ones about you though…are they true?’

Connor nodded. ‘All true,’ he answered softly, and turned away. ‘You should follow me. Alistair and Teagan are waiting at the Keep.’

Skye nodded, and pulled her hood up to hide her face before urging her tired horse forward. Varric trotted to walk next to her, pulling her staff from the saddle’s leather loops and handing it back to her. ‘Skye,’ he murmured in a low voice. ‘Be careful around the kid. He’s a powerful mage, by all accounts. What happened when he was younger…there’s a reason he met us here, and not in the village, alright?’

Skye watched the retreating human. ‘He seems lost,’ she remarked softly. Cassandra gave a heavy sigh.

‘If what they say is true, that is no surprise.’

It was only a few minutes before the group were clattering across the drawbridge and into the front courtyard of Redcliffe Castle. The place was much improved – without the red lyrium, and the horror of the Venatori, it seemed downright pleasant. Skye dismounted at last, giving her horse a pat on its neck, and handed over the reins to a human servant who had run forward to take charge of the animal. ‘Ma serannas,’ she whispered, and pretended not to notice the startled look of distrust on the servant’s face as she led the horse away.

She turned to see Connor who had discarded his cloak. He was a broad shouldered man, far larger than his cowed manner had led her to believe, and there was a flicker of unease in the pit of her belly. If he had magic, then he would be a formidable opponent indeed. He seemed to notice her stare, and bowed, smiling.

‘I would formally welcome you to Redcliffe Castle, Inquisitor.’

As if on cue, the great doors that sat embedded in the stone swung open, and two men came striding through, talking earnestly. One, the elder, had to be Arl Teagan. His sandy hair and beard were struck through with silver and grey, but, like his nephew, he was a powerfully built man. Alistair was walking beside him, his hair still closely cropped and golden, and the insignia of the Wardens gleamed about his throat. The two men reached the bottom of the steps and Alistair threw out his hands towards Skye.

‘Don’t tell me you’re here to drag me back to the Fade!’ he laughed. ‘Once was quite enough, thank you!’

Skye grinned, and moved to give Alistair a hug. ‘Not today, my friend.’

He hugged her back, with the familiarity of an old friend, before releasing her and gesturing to Teagan. ‘I think you know of my uncle by now, Skye, but I’m not sure you’ve ever actually met him.’

The ser smiled at her, and although his eyes were kind Skye could sense the distrust rolling off his body. She bowed. ‘Thank you so much for accepting us into your lands,’ she said, and Teagan chuckled. ‘Please, it is no trouble. Had I refused, Alistair would have thrown a tantrum and sulked for weeks. He speaks very highly of you, Inquisitor.’

She didn’t need to have magic to hear the rest of that sentence. _For a mage._ Skye smiled politely as Teagan gestured to the castle doors. ‘Shall we step inside? I’ll have the servants fetch you all something hot to eat.’ He looked at Connor fondly. ‘Go and fetch your mother, pup. See if she will join us.’

Connor nodded and turned, walking towards a little door set deep within the wall. He disappeared through the opening, and Teagan began to walk back up the stone steps. ‘I should let you know, Inquisitor, should Isolde join us – she’s not herself, not any more. I had intended to send her to Denerim, to be with Eamon, but then everything happened with the Venatori and her mind vanished. It reminded her too much of what happened when Connor was young, I think. Now she wanders the halls like a ghost.’

Skye had been following the Arl up the steps, but she stopped as he reached the top. ‘What happened when he was young, exactly?’

Teagan turned to look at her, bemused. ‘You mean you haven’t heard? I would have thought the story would have reached all corners of Thedas.’

The elf shrugged. ‘I was Dalish, and in the Free Marches to boot. We didn’t tend to keep up with shemlen news.’

His eyes flashed at the use of the elven tongue, and Skye suppressed a sigh. So it wasn’t just that she was a mage after all. Great. The moment passed, however, and Teagan shook his head. ‘I can’t relive it all again.’

He jerked his head at Alistair. ‘Fill them in. I’ll see you at supper.’

Alistair nodded, and the party watched as the Arl strode into the depths of his castle.

‘Likes a bit of drama, doesn’t he,’ Sera commented. Varric looked at Alistair. ‘It’s not drama if it’s the truth – eh, Goldilocks?’

Alistair had lost his easy smile. ‘Indeed.’ He looked at Skye. ‘During the Fifth Blight, Connor became possessed by a desire demon,’ he explained. ‘Aurelie and I arrived hoping to procure aid for a Landsmeet, and turned up to a Redcliffe overrun by the dead. Eamon was sick, dying, and Connor had made a foolish bargain to try to save his life. Teagan was enchanted, blood magic involved – all a bit of a mess, really.’

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. ‘It got sorted, eventually, but Connor doesn’t dare to set foot in the village any more. Then, what with all the mage troubles, he barely leaves the castle. It wasn’t exactly the best of times.’

Skye nodded in sympathy. ‘That sounds terrible. I’m so sorry.’ Her friends murmured their apologies, and Alistair shrugged, before leading the way to the hall. As they walked, Skye took the opportunity to ask him on the recuperation of the Wardens. It was an easy conversation, and they were still discussing the matter when they arrived to an overflowing table.

Flagons of mead and wine were laid out beside plates full of fresh caught fish from the harbour, and roasted vegetables. Skye grinned at the layout. ‘This beats travel rations,’ she laughed, and took her seat by Teagan’s left side. Cassandra, Sera and Varric sat down respectively, the latter two falling upon their food with total abandon.

Cassandra, at least, was using cutlery.

At a gesture from Teagan, servants brought forward steaming cups of spiced tea, and Skye’s stomach turned as she caught the aroma. _I detest the stuff._

The memory sent her still, and with a quick glance, signalled Varric to keep the conversation going. Between the three of them, Alistair and Teagan were howling with laughter as tales were told and spun.

Between one story and another, a door in the far corner of the room opened. Through it entered a tall, blonde woman, who was almost skeletal in size. Connor supported her on one arm, and Skye’s eyes widened as a young, black haired child appeared through the door to support her on the other. Together, the boys guided her to a chair.

‘Aunt Isolde, this is your chair,’ Kieran said softly, and Isolde looked at him vacantly as she sat.

‘Mother,’ Connor whispered. ‘Would you like a little fish?’

At his voice, Isolde jumped, paling, and tears filled her eyes. ‘Connor?’ Her heavy voice was thickened by an Orlesian accent. ‘Is that you? The demon had you – did I fall asleep? You are grown now. How much – oh, my boy. My Connor…’

Her voice trailed away as Connor cupped her face with his hand. ‘It is alright,’ he murmured. ‘We all survived. You are safe. And look – this is a guest. Her name is Skye.’

Isolde turned to look at the Inquisitor, and her gaze, much like Teagan’s, sharpened in dislike as she saw Skye’s pointed ears. ‘Why is there an elf at the table?’

Skye cleared her throat. ‘I am a guest here, my lady. Andaran atish’an. Your home is lovely.’

Isolde said nothing in reply, and merely scowled at the plate of steaming fish that a servant placed in front of her. She ate in silence, and faded into the background.

At a command from Teagan, the servants left the hall, and he leant forward. ‘To business, then.’

From his pocket, he withdrew a rolled piece of parchment. It was the letter Skye had sent from the old man’s rookery. ‘This letter asks for discretion in whatever matter has brought you this way…but it also stated that you wouldn’t arrive for another week. Why the need for such urgency and secrecy?’

Skye flushed. ‘My quest is of a…personal nature,’ she answered slowly. ‘The Inquisition has not exactly approved it. I thought it better to write of a delayed arrival, in case my letter was intercepted – or, if you’ll forgive my caution, you thought to write to them and confirm my arrival.’

Alistair raised an eyebrow, grinning. ‘Skye, what have you got yourself mixed up in?’

At this, Skye faltered, and Cassandra cut in. ‘Solas was seen in Skyhold a few weeks ago. He attacked Leliana, left her for dead, before escaping.’

Both Teagan and Alistair paled at this. Skye shook her head. ‘I believe it wasn’t intentional. The Inquisition wants his head – I want answers.’

The Arl leant back in his carved chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. ‘So what does Redcliffe have to do with any of this? We’ve had no reports of elven apostates here.’

Skye took a deep breath. This was the difficult bit. ‘Alistair,’ she began gently. ‘I made a deal with Morrigan.’ He went white.

‘You’ve seen her?’

Skye nodded, looking across at Kieran who was staring at her from across the table. ‘She’s alright, da’len. She sends her love.’

Kieran rose from the table. ‘I want to go now,’ he announced, and left the room as swiftly as a shadow in the midday sun.

Alistair watched him leave, his lips pursing. ‘He’s not found it particularly easy to stay in one place. I mean, with Morrigan for a mother, I thought he’d appreciate some stability…but, you know. Maybe not.’

Skye watched him. ‘He is cared for?’

Alistair snorted. ‘Please. He’s a good lad. A little odd, perhaps, but he gets that from my side of the family. He wants for nothing here.’ His gaze sharpened. ‘Has Morrigan sent you to check up on me?’

The elf nodded, but as she did she yawned. It had been a long, hard journey to reach Redcliffe, and suddenly she noticed that her companions were equally exhausted.

Teagan rose from his chair. ‘It is late,’ he said kindly, ‘and I trust that this quest of yours can be better discussed in daylight. My servants will take you to your quarters. Alistair, Skye, goodnight.’

Both inclined their head, and Teagan left the hall. Gently, Connor helped Isolde rise to her feet, and he nodded at Skye as he guided his mother to her chambers. Alistair looked at Skye. ‘I’ve no doubt you could sleep for a year and a day. Go on. We can speak tomorrow.’

A serving girl, all freckles and red hair, appeared at Skye’s elbow, and gratefully the elf let herself be led to her room. Once the human had left, Skye collapsed onto the straw mattress, barely remembering to undo her armour before falling asleep.


End file.
